


Everything I Never Knew

by staringatthesky



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 103,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatthesky/pseuds/staringatthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because sometimes a split second decision changes a life… One night, Rosalie Hale walked a different way home. Because of this, she didn’t meet Royce on the road and the worst night of Rosalie’s life happened to someone else. So what happened when Rosalie was never hurt, never turned vampire, and got everything she had always thought she wanted?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rosalie - Meeting the Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing about Jane and the Volturi, I need to cleanse my soul. It’s quite difficult to try and get into the head of a child serial killer, I must say. So I’ve gone back to my beautiful Rosalie and Emmett!  
> This story came about through a conversation that cropped up on Panlight, (over on tumblr, check it out if you haven’t already!) about whether or not Rosalie and Emmett could have ever got together and made it work if they’d stayed human. It was concluded that it was pretty doubtful…well, challenge accepted! I’m going to write this and see if it happens for them, without that vampire magic.  
> I’m taking the three human!Rosalie chapters that I wrote for her version of All That I Am to be the first three Rosalie POV chapters of this. The other thing I changed from canon is their age- I’ve kept the two year age gap between them even though in the book they were born in the same year.

“Girls! Rosalie! Wait for me!”

I paused, smiling across the sunny park as my friend Kitty came hurrying over the lush grass, one hand on her hat and the other hand swinging her purse.

“Hello darlings!” She linked her arm in mine and smiled brightly at Lacy and Anne. “I wasn’t sure if you’d all still be here.”

I glanced at my watch. “I shall have to go home soon. It’s the banker’s ball tonight…”

“I know! “ Kitty squealed. “I’ve just been at the seamstress’…can you believe she still hadn’t finished my dress this morning? I thought I was going to have to wear my sister’s old dress.” She sighed theatrically. “It’s all done now though, and it’s gorgeous!”

“You’re so lucky to have a new dress,” Lacy said enviously. “I DO have to wear my sister’s old dress. But then, at least I’m allowed to go, I didn’t think my mother was going to let me for a while.”

Anne remained silent. She wasn’t going to the ball, a fact that I’m sure rankled bitterly, especially since the rest of us were so excited and had been talking of little else all week.

“Have you decided what you’re wearing Rosalie?” Lacy asked me.

I shrugged carelessly, although inside I was secretly gleeful over the beautiful new party wardrobe Mother had had made for me. Fancy ball gowns, beautiful tea dresses and afternoon gowns…I was complacently conscious of how pretty it all made me look, and I was impatient to be able to dress up and show off. I was nearly eighteen and the whole adult world of parties and dances and socialising was opening up to me, and I was alight with anxious anticipation. The banker’s ball was going to be the biggest formal occasion I had attended, and I was determined that I was going to shine.

“I think the new pink silk,” I said. I squeezed Kitty’s arm. “It’s going to so much fun!” I squinted over the grass, to where I could see a young mother and a baby, sitting in the shade under a tree. “Oh look, it’s Vera and the baby. We should go and say hello, he’s the most adorable thing.”

Kitty gave me a sideways look. “Maybe another time.”

I rolled my eyes a little defensively. Vera had been at school with us since the infant grades and the five of us had been a tight-knit clique. I thought it would stay that way, but when Vera left school at and married a carpenter the others had drawn away from her. I knew we didn’t exactly move in the same social circles anymore, but I liked visiting Vera in her tiny house and found her company easy and relaxing. It was nice sometimes to be able to laugh and giggle and not worry about living up to the image of the poised and beautiful young lady I was trying to cultivate.

Then there was Vera’s baby. Little Henry, with his dimpled cheeks and beautiful chubby hands that reached out to me with innocent happiness, aroused such feelings of tenderness in me that I was half embarrassed by my own emotions. He was so beautiful! Watching Vera hold his tiny newborn body while her husband looked on with such pride had made me, for almost the first time in my life, feel jealous. I wanted what she had. I wanted a husband who would love me and take care of me and look after me like I was his most precious possession, and I wanted my own sweet babies to lavish love and kisses on and make us a family.

“It’s time I was going home anyway,” I said. “I’ll say hello to Vera on my way past.” I smiled at the other girls. “Kitty and Lacy, I’ll see you tonight! Anne…I’m sorry you won’t be there, but we’ll see you tomorrow back here in the park and we’ll tell you about it. Goodbye!” Waving, I tripped off across the park, heading towards where Vera sat on a blanket with her baby, the baby carriage parked behind her.

“Rosalie,” she greeted me warmly. “You look lovely today! How are you?”

“I’m good.” I bent my face towards Henry. “And how’s my little man?” I cooed. The baby smiled at me, plump cheeks dimpling and squeezing his eyes into little half moons and I laughed gently and gave him my finger, which he immediately caught up and moved awkwardly towards his mouth.

“He’s getting a tooth,” Vera warned me.

“Oh, I can feel it!” I looked up at her in wonder, feeling the hard tooth bud pressing into my finger where last week there had been only smooth gum. “Oh, he’s growing up!”

Vera smiled at him softly. “Oh yes he is, aren’t you my little sunshine? You’re going to be a big strong man like your daddy soon!” She looked back at me. “What have you been doing?”

“Getting ready for the banker’s ball,” I said carelessly. “It’s tonight, so I shall have to go home soon. Mother will be cross if I’m not there in plenty of time to get ready.” I took Henry from Vera and bounced him gently on my knees, loving the way he waved fat little fists in the air and laughed. “I just had to come and say hello to you first.”

“Perhaps you can come by during the week and tell me about the ball?” Vera suggested. “You’ll have to tell me about all your conquests- I’m sure you’ll be breaking hearts all over town!”

Both of us laughed, and I shook my head with a wicked grin. “I don’t want to break any hearts…I just want to find someone handsome and rich and charming and perfect!” I giggle. “I’m hardly asking for anything much at all.”

Vera hugged me, baby Henry caught between us. “I’m sure if anyone like that exists then _you_ will be the one to find him Rose! Now much as I’d love for you to stay and chat, you should probably be going home or your mother will be very unhappy with you, and that won’t be a good start to the evening.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.” I kissed the baby and then snuggled him close, blowing raspberries into the delicious folds in his neck to make him laugh, not even caring when his strong little hands wound in my hair and pulled it loose. I untangled my hair and pretended to munch on his little starfish hands before I handed him back to Vera. “Here you go. You’re right, I must go. Maybe tonight’s the night I’m going to meet my perfect man…I’ll be sure to tell you about it!”

With a bright laugh I jumped to my feet and hurried home, feeling anticipation fizzing in my belly. Maybe I would meet my own handsome prince at the ball? After all, I was seventeen and beautiful and ready…why shouldn’t I get what I wanted? I always had before.

Mother was in the sitting room when I reached home, and she called me in to her.

“You didn’t get too much sun out in the park?” she questioned, indicating the seat opposite her and pouring me a glass of lemon water.

“No, I’m fine,” I replied, drinking it gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Now Rosalie, I know you’re excited about tonight. But I want to make sure you’ll be on your best behaviour,” Mother said sternly. “There will be many important and influential people at the ball, and your father and I are very anxious that you make a good impression. You’re a young lady now, and the social connections you make now are going to be very important for your future.”

 _In other words, look pretty and find yourself a husband._ “I know all that Mother,” I said, a little impatiently. “When have I ever done anything to make you and Father unhappy?”

Mother smiled. “You haven’t. Your father and I are very proud of the way you’ve grown up Rosalie. He’s hoping to introduce you to some new business acquaintances tonight, and I just wanted to make sure you were prepared. Now run upstairs and take your bath, I want plenty of time to do your hair.”

I took my time in the bath, adding rose scented bath crystals and idly swirling my hands in the warm water as I lay back and relaxed. I wished my mother would stop making such a fuss- anyone would think I didn’t know how to behave the way she went on sometimes. She acted like I didn’t want the same thing that she and father wanted for me, which wasn’t true at all. They wanted to see me settled and married well, and I wanted that too. They had stronger feelings about what type of man I should marry than I did, but in the end our goals were the same and I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardise that.

“Rosalie! Hurry up!” Mother scolded from the door, and I scrambled out of the bath and dried myself off before scampering down to my room. She had laid out the new underwear that had been bought specially for the occasion, and I carefully rolled the stockings up my legs and fastened the garters to keep them smooth. It felt slightly scandalous not to wear a brassiere, my breasts having grown big enough that I’d been wearing one since I was thirteen, but the dress would have shown the straps. I slid it up, and then stood in front of the mirror examining my reflection with a growing sense of pleasure. Oh, I looked beautiful! The dress was a dusky rose pink silk with a deep vee neckline, slightly gathered over my breasts and with thin straps over my shoulders. Tight from just under the bust line it flowed out from under my hips, emphasising all my curves, while the colour made my skin glow.

“Lovely,” Mother said with satisfaction, coming in and standing behind me. She twitched at the skirt a little, and then reached down into the bodice to push my breasts into place, making my cleavage more obvious and pulling the straps tighter to hold everything where she wanted it.

“Mother!” I squirmed away from her, blushing furiously.

“Use what you’ve got, Rosalie,” she said practically. “God blessed you with this beauty and you need to make the most of it. Just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean you can be lazy and not make every effort to look your best. Now sit down and I’ll do your hair.”

“We should think about cutting it,” Mother said, brushing hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “It’s lovely long, but it’s not very fashionable.”

“I like it,” I muttered, bracing myself as she began to style it. Mother was so heavy handed with my hair I’d be lucky not to end up bald. “I don’t want to cut it.” Cut my beautiful long hair? Was she crazy? If that’s what it took to find a husband I’d be a spinster for the rest of my life.

Mother arranged it in a low chignon, tucking a spray of flowers into the knot when she was done. It looked beautiful, she was a painful hairdresser but the finished results were always good, and she nodded in satisfaction as she fastened the string of pearls I’d been given for my sixteenth birthday around my neck. “You look lovely, Rosalie, just perfect. Now go downstairs and wait for your father and I.”

I was nearly finished my book by the time my parents were ready and came down the stairs. I jumped to my feet and smiled gaily. “Hello Father.”

“You look lovely, princess,” Father said holding out his arm and waiting for me to take it. “You’ll be the belle of the ball, I shouldn’t wonder.” I took his arm and smiled up at him, and he began leading me out to the car, Mother on his other arm. “Now, some of the people you’ll be introduced to tonight are very prominent and quite influential, so I want you to just look pretty and smile and be my sweet princess, hmmm? No arguing with people!”

He shook his finger at me with mock sternness, and I giggled and smile demurely. “Of course not, Father!”

The ball was being held at the town hall and was one of the biggest events on the yearly social calendar. This was the first year I’d been allowed to go and, even as I waited quietly and decorously for our turn to enter, inside I felt like I was dancing with impatient excitement. Everywhere I looked were people dressed up in their fanciest clothes, gorgeous gowns and sparkling jewels and handsome men everywhere. I knew my eyes were sparkling, and I felt a tiny little seed of self- satisfaction because I could tell that I was at least as pretty as any other girl there. 

Almost as soon as we were inside I was asked to dance, and I didn’t sit down again for a long time. I moved from one dance partner to another, feeling flushed with the exercise and quite heady with the number and extravagance of the compliments I received. Finally my mother caught me at the end of a dance and gently but firmly took my arm. “Rosalie dear, your father wants you.”

My father was in one of the smaller reception rooms, talking to two men. Mother pushed me towards them and I took a deep breath and walked over as gracefully as I could. Something in Mother’s tense face told me that whoever these people were, this meeting was what she and Father had been trying to prepare me for earlier.

Father gave me a broad smile as I approached and held out his hand. “There you are, Princess. Mr King, Royce, please allow me to introduce my daughter, Rosalie. Rosalie, this is Mr King and his son, Royce Junior.”

I knew about the King family. Everyone did. They were the wealthiest family in Rochester, and I knew that Royce King Senior was my father’s most important client at the bank. Money, position, power…no wonder my parents had been so anxious I make an impression.

I raised my eyes with a smile. Mr King was a tall, heavyset man with heavy brows and a fierce, square jawed face, but he smiled at me in a friendly enough way and nodded. I inclined my head towards him and then turned to his son, and my heart stuttered.

He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Tall and lean he had dark hair and eyes, and the same strong jaw as his father in his clean shaven face. His eyes caught mine with an almost hypnotic intensity, and I felt myself breathing faster as he smiled at me.

“The pleasure is mine,” he murmured to my father, taking my hand and raising it to his mouth in an old fashioned gesture that set my heart hammering. “It’s lovely to meet you, Rosalie.”

Even through my gloves I could feel him pressing his lips against me. I prayed that he wouldn’t feel the slight tremble in my fingers at his daring. This was no silly boy that I could flirt with and wind around my finger with a smile and a flutter of eyelashes, oh no. Even just looking at him I could tell that this was a determined man who always knew exactly what he wanted and would not let anything get in the way of him taking it. And now he was looking at me, his eyes raking from the top of my head down across my body in a way that made me feel suddenly disturbingly, deliciously naked in front of him. I could feel a blush heating my chest and pinking up my cheeks, and I dipped my eyes in confusion.

“Lovely to meet you at last Rosalie,” Mr King said to me. “You’re as pretty as your father said you were! And how old are you now?”

“Rosalie’s a treasure,” Father said, rubbing my shoulder fondly. “She’s nearly eighteen now.”

“Quite the grown up lady,” Royce said with a laugh in his voice, his hand still curved around mine. His smouldering eyes met mine again. “Would you care to dance, Rosalie?”

 _Yes, please!_ Not trusting my voice, I nodded and let Royce lead me over to the dance floor, where he pulled me around to face him, one hand possessively on my lower back to hold me close to him. I could feel my pulse race. I’d been held like this all night by men dancing with me, but somehow this felt different.

“I’ve been noticing you all night,” Royce said to me in a low voice as we moved across the dance floor. “You’ve been dancing and I couldn’t help but watch you. You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you. I’ve been having a wonderful evening,” I said breathlessly. I looked up at him, feeling almost dizzy with attraction and excitement. From the corner of my eyes I could see other people watching us, and I knew that together Royce and I made the most eye catching couple on the dance floor. My stomach curled with arrogant satisfaction, and I looked up at Royce with a flirtatious laugh. “Although…I think perhaps it did just become a little better.”

Royce’s eyes glimmered, and I felt his hand on my back slide lower, the pressure of his fingers grazing lightly over the beginning curve of my buttocks and coming to rest on my hip. Once again a blush heated my cheeks. Royce looked down at me and laughed too. “I’m glad to hear that Rosalie…because I have to say that my night seems to be improving too.”


	2. Emmett - A Good Son

“Emmett…Emmett…”

My eyes closed, I tried to ignore the whispering voice in my ear. It couldn’t possibly be morning yet, it was way too early for someone to be waking me up and _sweet Mother of mercy, my HEAD…_

“EMMETT!”

With a groan I gave in to the inevitable and opened one bleary eye to see my five year old sister Elizabeth frowning down at me. “Hey, trouble,” I mumbled.

“I’m not trouble, YOU are,” she said with a giggle, plopping down into the hay beside me. “Why did you sleep out here in the barn?”

I groaned piteously as I sat up, my head thumping painfully in time with my heartbeat. “I got back late.”

“Did you go out with your friends and play cards? Did you win?” Elizabeth asked eagerly. I had taught her to play poker and she had become far too interested in my games. To say Ma wasn’t pleased with me was an understatement.

“I played.” The light and empty feeling of my pockets informed me very clearly what the result had been. “I didn’t win though.”

Hauling myself to my feet I staggered out of the barn and stuck my whole head in the rain barrel. The cold water felt good, and I stayed submerged for as long as I could hold my breath before throwing my head back to fling the water off my curls.

“Where’s Pa?” I asked Elizabeth. “Has he gone to work?”

I couldn’t stop my sigh of relief when she nodded. Pa and I had a slight difference of opinion about whether hanging out at the hotel with my buddies til late at night was a good use of time. I was sure he’d have plenty to say to me when he got home, but at least I could put it off for a while.

“Hannah wants you to go and check the snares,” Elizabeth informed me. “And I’m going to come with you.”

“Okay, just let me go change.”

I crossed the yard from the barn to the house. Hannah, my sister, was energetically kneading a loaf of bread in the kitchen as I passed through to the bedroom where I kept my clothes. I hung up my one good shirt and folded up my only pair of trousers without holes, pulling on the patched and threadbare clothes I wore at home instead.

“Can you go out and check your traps?” Hannah asked me anxiously as I went back into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. “Ma’s sick again so I have to do the cooking and there isn’t any meat. If you can get a couple of rabbits I’ll do stew for dinner, and then we can have this bread and eggs for supper.”

I glanced over at the closed door of our parents’ room and nodded. “I’ll take Elizabeth and the boys out with me, so it’ll be quiet here at home for Ma. Where’s Maggie?”

“She went over to the farm with Pa.” Hannah shaped her bread as she talked. She was only fifteen, but our mother had been sick so often over the past year that Hannah had become almost as capable at running the house as Ma was. “Mrs Allison said if Maggie would babysit the twins for the morning she’d pay her.”

“She’ll earn that money!” I said with a laugh. Maggie was eleven, and the three year old Allison twins would be running rings around her.

Hannah giggled. “Better her than me!” Sobering, she eyed me speculatively and said, “You might want to do something to butter Pa up a little, Em. He was really mad about you going out last night and ranted about you wasting money and doing nothing and…”

I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know… Don’t worry Hannah, I’ll chop some more wood and fix the pasture fence this afternoon and Pa will be sweet.”

Hannah giggled. “There’s a cold pie in the pantry if you want it.”

“Aww, Hannie you’re the best!” I grabbed the pie and stuffed half of it in my mouth as I waved to her and headed outside.

The pie was one of Ma’s best. Flaky pastry, chock full of meat and vegetables and thick gravy that squirted out and slopped down the front of me as I bit into it.

“You’re a mess,” Elizabeth said severely, jumping off the porch after me.

“I sure am,” I agreed, swallowing the last of my pie and licking my shirt. “Let’s find Will and Stephen and go and check the traps.”

The combination of the pie and walking through the forest had me feeling quite revived, my throbbing head reduced to a dull ache. Will was nine, but Stephen was only seven and so our pace was leisurely so he could keep up. Elizabeth walked about five minutes and then, like always, complained that she was tired until I relented and lifted her up to carry her on my shoulders.

The first couple of snares were empty, so after I checked them to make sure they were still set properly we continued on. We were luckier on the last two and got two plump rabbits.

“Yuck,” Elizabeth said, as I unhooked the wire and dropped the furry little body beside her.

“You’ll like them well enough when Hannah cooks them up into a stew,” I murmured. “Here, Will…set this. Let’s see how well you remember.”

Will eagerly took the snare lines and carefully set the trap. He was good too, I couldn’t fault it when he was done. I was glad that he was learning so well; I hadn’t had any steady work in a year, but it made me feel better to think that if I did get a job then Will could take over the trapping at least. He didn’t do quite as good a job skinning and gutting the rabbits, but it wasn’t too bad and Hannah was grateful for the meat when we gave it to her.

It was too late in the morning for it to be an ideal fishing time, but I wanted to keep the kids out of the house for as long as I could so we collected rods and buckets and nets and wandered along the river until we found a good place. Will and Stephen set their lines and then disappeared into the forest, leaving me to keep an eye on the river. Elizabeth sat beside me, playing with the river stones.

“This is my stone family,” she announced to me. “This big one is the daddy, and this one is the princess and these ones are the brothers and these ones are the sisters. And all these little ones are the princess’ kittens. And this shiny one is the momma, and she’s resting.”

I smiled at her and took the stones she gave me, but my heart was heavy. Ma being sick and needing to rest in bed for days on end was hard on everyone, but Elizabeth probably missed her the most. She’d only been three when Ma had to take to her bed with the last pregnancy, and most of her care had fallen to Hannah and I. Since Hannah had the house and the cooking to deal with I’d ended up with a little shadow in pinafores and pigtails, and all my buddies knew to tone down the language and watch what they said when she was around.

Ma’s pregnancy had ended in a stillbirth and left her close to dying. She had improved, but never regained the health and energy she’d had before and regularly needed periods of bedrest. I didn’t know exactly what was wrong with her- Pa said it was “woman’s troubles”, whatever that was – but the doctor had said that only an operation would solve the problem. An operation that we didn’t have anywhere near enough money to pay for.

Forgetting about the fish I was probably scaring away, I absent-mindedly skimmed some of the stones across the water, brooding about money again. At twenty years old I should be earning a living and taking care of myself, not still living at home and mooching off my parents, but there simply weren’t any jobs. I’d worked on the Allison’s farm with Pa when I first left school, but they’d had to let me go when things got tight. Since then I’d only worked odd jobs here and there, and there wasn’t anything promising in sight.

I did what I could around home to make up for not bringing in any money. I chopped endless amounts of wood, did all the digging and heavy work in the garden, kept the house and fences and outbuildings on our little bit of land in good repair, did the laundry, and spent hours hunting, trapping and fishing to add to the table. With Ma being sick so often and Pa working longer hours for less money over at the Allison’s farm I knew they appreciated the help and didn’t mind me hanging around, but I still felt guilty.

Elizabeth played with her stones and I lay back on the bank with my eyes closed, listening to her talk. I heard Will and Stephen in the forest occasionally, but it was only when their shouts turned to shrieks that I thought about going in search of them.

I didn’t need to though. A few moments later they came out from the trees, Will with a long scrape along one leg and Stephen howling with a splinter driven into the palm of his hand.

“Give it here,” I said with a sigh, taking his little hand. “Aww, that’s deep.”

“It hurts,” Stephen sobbed.

“I know.” I slipped my pocketknife out and flipped up the sharpest blade. “Hold still.”

Stephen shrieked. “Emmett, no! No! Not with the knife!”

It only took a second to snick the blade across his skin and pop out the long dark splinter of wood. The blood welled up and I squeezed his hand, wanting to make sure any little bits came out with the blood rather than stay in his hand to fester. “It’s done.” I gave him a hug and he wiped his face on my shirt and sniffled into my chest.

“You didn’t catch anything,” Will commented.

“Nope. It’ll be just rabbit for dinner today. Help me pack up the gear and we’ll go back home.” I rumpled Stephen’s dark curly hair, the same as mine, and he smiled at me trustingly and wiped his eyes.

Back at the house I split wood until my arms were sore and all the wood baskets inside were filled, and then I went out to the pasture to mend the damaged section of fence. Star saw me coming and neighed, trotting after me and bumping me in the back with her soft nose while I tried to work.

“Hey girl,” I murmured. “You’ve been breaking down your fence, have you? Causing trouble like always…”

I was a fool for my horse, and I knew it. _Everyone_ knew it. I’d won Star in a poker game three years earlier, back when my buddies and I all had work and the stakes were higher. She’d been a skinny, mostly wild yearling and most of the guys teased me that she was no prize, that I’d just been duped into taking a problem off someone’s hands.

I didn’t care. I’d grown up spending summers on my Grandpa’s horse farm until he died, and I didn’t think there were any worthless horses as long as you trained them right. So I took the skittish filly and named her Star after the pony Grandad had once taught me to ride on. I took my time with her, feeding her up and breaking her in nice and gentle, and she’d grown into just about the best horse I’d ever known. Gentle enough for Elizabeth to ride and yet spirited enough for me to have fun with, she was beautifully kept and superbly fit. Apart from some scrappy clothes, my pocket knife and the hunting knife from Pa, Star was the only thing I owned, and the only thing that was worth any money.

Once the fence was fixed I scratched Star’s ears and then vaulted up onto her back. Using my knees I guided her on a slow amble around the field, eventually stopping when I saw my Pa leaning against the rails in the slanting afternoon sunlight, watching me.

“She’s looking good Em,” Pa said.

“Thanks.” I slid off and slapped her rump affectionately. “Off you go, girl.” I watched her walk slowly away, sniffing at the grass, while I waited for Pa to say something. 

I was braced for him to start in on me about staying out too late drinking again, so it surprised me when he said quietly, “I’ve come to ask you for something Emmett. A favour.”

“Anything,” I answered promptly.

Pa smiled at me sadly. “It’s a big thing. It’s about the operation your momma needs, and finding the money for it.”

“What do you want me to do?” I said eagerly. “Is there some work? You know I’ll do anything to help.”

“Would you sell the horse?”

“Oh, Pa…” That was all I said, and it was as close to begging as I had ever come.

“I’m sorry Em, I really am. If there was any other way…but there isn’t.” Pa looked truly regretful. “I went to the bank today and asked if we could extend the mortgage, but Miller had to say no. He felt right bad about it, I could tell, but he didn’t have any choice. He answers to the higher-ups, just like everyone else. When I was leaving he came out after me and said he was real sorry that he couldn’t help me through the bank, but if I needed money then maybe we could do a deal on the horse. He does a lot of travelling around the district and a horse is easier than the auto. I told him that Star is yours and I couldn’t make a deal without you, and he asked me to pass on the offer.”

“How much did he offer for her?” I felt numb.

Pa named the price and I shook my head almost before he’d finished talking. “She’s worth more than that.”

“She probably is, if we could take her to the sales or wait for someone to come along who wants her more than Miller does,” Pa agreed. “But the doc says we can’t wait on your momma’s operation much longer.”

“I know,” I muttered. “And of course I’ll…I’ll sell her. It’s a fair price.” Fair, not generous.

Pa’s face was dark with shame. “I’m sorry Em, I know what that horse means to you. I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way, and I swear I’ll pay you back once things pick up. Right now I don’t even know how we’d feed her through the winter. And Miller has enough money that she’ll be well taken care of, and he’s good to his horses.”

I nodded my head. “I know. Star will be in good hands, and Ma will get better after her operation. It’s going to work out fine.”

I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t think I could without my voice shaking, and I looked away across the pasture, my eyes burning. I cursed myself for being such a big baby about an animal. Of course I would sell her, heck I would _shoot_ her if that could help my Ma, but goddammit it would be hard to do!

I nearly jumped when I felt Pa’s arm around my shoulders. “You’re a good man Emmett,” he said gruffly. “I know you feel badly about not working, but I don’t know what we would have done around here without you over the last year or so. You don’t need to do anything more than you already do to prove yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – I won’t usually be posting two chapters at once, but since anyone who has read my other things has already read the Rosalie chapter, I thought I’d give you Emmett now too. I hope you enjoyed it.


	3. Rosalie - A Perfect Life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Another quick update, because I had this chapter all ready to go from the other story. It’s hard watching her set herself up for marriage with Royce, knowing what he’s going to turn in to!  
> To the reader who left me such a lovely comment, thank you so much! I can’t reply to you directly, but it really made my day to get such compliments so thank you.

I slept late the morning after the Banker’s Ball. Mother abhorred laziness and would usually hound me out of bed at the usual time no matter what we’d been doing the night before, but for once she relaxed her usual standard and let me rest. It was mid-morning before I was up and dressed and skipping downstairs. The doorbell rang as I reached the front hall, so I opened it to a man carrying a bunch of flowers.

“Miss Rosalie Hale?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, and he handed me the bunch of flowers with a wink.

“For you then. Looks like you’ve got an admirer!”

I took the flowers, a delighted smile breaking over my face. A dozen long stemmed red roses…oh! “Thank you!” I said breathlessly, and turned to go back into the house.

“Rosalie, who was at the door?” Mother called in to the hall.

I carried the flowers into the sitting room, where Mother was seated at her writing table. “Look!” I took the card and read it, feeling my cheeks warm and my belly tighten with pleasure. “They’re for me, from Royce.”

Mother took the card from my hands and read it quickly. “Miss Rosalie, thank you for a most enjoyable evening. Royce.” She looked at me, her eyes glittering. “You made quite an impression on him it seems. Well done.”

“He’s so handsome,” I said. “He was lovely to me…”

Mother hugged me. “That’s my girl. All I want is a good chance for you, Rosalie, and this could be it. The Kings are an important family, and Royce is young and handsome and charming…well. But we’ll just wait and see what happens.”

What happened was that the flowers came every day. Always roses, like my name, blooming in their bright hues all over the house and infusing the air with their sweet, heavy scent. I moved through the days with a secret smile on my face and a flutter in my heart, waiting for something to happen, believing with all the arrogant, foolish confidence of a beautiful seventeen year old that it would. And then on Friday the flowers were delivered with a note, and I read it and had to hold back my shriek of delight. _Rosalie, With your parents’ permission I will call for you tonight at 7. Royce._

“Please Mother,” I begged. “Please let me go.”

“Of course you may go,” Mother answered, nearly as excited as I was. She helped me dress and once again did my hair, and by the time Royce arrived and was in the sitting room talking to Father I was ready.

“Sit down and calm yourself for a minute,” Mother said sharply, taking in the flushed brilliance of my cheeks and pushing me down firmly on to the dressing table stool.

“But he’s here!” I protested.

“And he’ll wait for you,” Mother countered. “You mustn’t appear too available and eager!” She bit her lip and hesitated as she looked at me. “He’s older than you are…remember who you are, Rosalie, and be a good girl.”

I didn’t even know what she meant, but I nodded my head and took some deep breaths, looking at my reflection in the mirror to steady myself. The navy blue dress with the low scoop neck and lace sleeves had a tight waist and a flared skirt that fell to just below my knees and was both pretty and pleasingly sophisticated, and I was wearing my favourite strappy shoes. Mother had kept my hair loose, smooth across the top and falling in a wave of sleek golden curls down my back. She had lent me her onyx pendant and matching earrings, and I knew I looked pretty. I took another breath and picked up my small purse. “I’m ready now,” I said serenely, and Mother nodded her approval as she followed my elegant descent down the stairs.

Royce took me to dinner that night, and then to one of the new, fashionable clubs that had only just become legal with the repeal of Prohibition. I didn’t know that my parents would entirely approve, but I had a glorious time. Royce was a charming date and a fabulous dance partner, and I couldn’t help but flush with pride when he introduced me to his friends and I saw their approval.

“I’m so glad you came out with me tonight,” Royce said as he drove me home afterwards.

“Thank you,” I said, half shyly. It felt very quiet and intimate with the two of us in the car after the noise of the club. “I had a lovely time.”

Royce pulled the car up in front of my house and I saw the curtains in the sitting room twitch as someone looked out. I looked back at Royce, and found him looking at me intently, his eyes dark. “I’d like to see you again, Rosalie.”

Breathlessly I nodded, trying to appear composed. “I’d like that too.” I glanced back at the house. “I think my parents are waiting up for me.”

“Of course,” Royce slid out of the car and I waited for him to come around and open the door for me. He took my arm to walk me to the front door, and I felt a delightful shiver as his warm fingers brushed across my bare arm. At the door he turned me to face him and I felt my breath coming faster as lowered his face and brushed his lips across mine.

“Goodnight Rosalie,” he murmured.

“Goodnight Royce,” I breathed. I stopped for a minute, my back against the door and smiled at him tremulously. I couldn’t believe that he had taken me out for such a wonderful night, and had kissed me and now he wanted to see me again! For a moment my heart stuttered as he leaned forward and kissed me again, and then I heard footsteps coming to the front door behind me and I reluctantly turned and went inside.

It was the start of a whirlwind romance, and I was completely caught up in the heady exhilaration of it. Royce was handsome and clever and charming, and he made no secret of the fact that he found me beautiful and desirable. He took me out to dinner and he took me dancing, he took me to the theatre and to the cinema and out walking in the park. He liked to show me off, and I was flattered at the attention from him and from his older friends. My vanity was fed by the envious looks of the other men when they saw Royce holding my arm possessively in his, and by the jealousy of the other girls when they saw that he had eyes for no one but me.

My rapidly approaching eighteenth birthday also occupied a great deal of my time and attention. After much discussion it was decided that my parents would host a cocktail party, and I found much of my days spent working on decorations and shopping for a new dress. My friends Kitty and Lacy and Anne were very excited about my party and were more than happy to help.

“This party is going to be wonderful,” Kitty said dreamily, leaning back in the lawn chair and drawing up her knees.

From my perch at the top of the ladder, struggling to hang the strings of paper lanterns that were supposed to decorate the garden, I looked down at her balefully. “If we ever get the decorations finished it might be wonderful,” I snapped.

Anne hurried over to help wrangle the lanterns, but Kitty merely smiled at me lazily. “Oh, you’re better at that than I am Rosalie…I’m too short to reach.”

I rolled my eyes, but nothing could really dampen my buoyant mood. It was my birthday, I was eighteen, my parents had given me the most delightful sapphire pendant and earring set over breakfast that morning, I was having a party in the evening and Royce had hinted that his present for me was going to be something very special…I couldn’t stop my own self-satisfied smirk.

Finally the lanterns were hung and the potted rose bushes were arranged, and the four of us collapsed into the lawn chairs to rest and gossip before we would all go and dress for the party.

“Do you know what Royce is giving you for your birthday?” Lacy asked enviously.

I shook my head with a small smile. “No…but he said it was something very special.”

Kitty’s eyes gleamed. “Do you think he’s going to ask…”

“Hush!” I didn’t want her to jinx what I had already begun dreaming of. It was so soon…but Royce wasn’t a man to play games and everyone said we looked so well together and it would be such a good match… “I don’t know. It’s far too soon to think about it,” I added, but my sparkling eyes told another story.

“Oh, it’s going to be fabulous!” Kitty squealed. “Just think Rosie, you’re going to marry the richest and most eligible bachelor in the city. Then you’ll live over in that big house and have parties and entertainment all the time and you can invite us and introduce us to all his friends!”

I laughed gleefully. “Nothing has been said yet! You mustn’t talk of it.” But I had fallen hard for Royce, and nothing in the world seemed as desirable as becoming his wife, and just the idea of it was enough to send my thoughts floating away on a sea of beautiful, romantic daydreams.

I was ready early for the party, wearing my new blue cocktail dress, the sapphires sparkling at my throat and ears, my hair looped up in heavy coils on my head with soft curls loose around my face. I was surprised to hear the doorbell half an hour before the party was due to start, and even more surprised that Mother called out to me to answer it, but I gave a last shine to my shoes and slipped down the stairs.

“Royce!” I exclaimed as I opened the door. “You’re early! Not that it’s not lovely to see you,” I added hastily, stepping back and holding the door wider. “Come in.”

Royce stepped through the door and took me gently in his arms, kissing my cheek. “Happy birthday, Rosalie.”

I smiled at him flirtatiously. “Thank you.” I let my hand rest briefly on the front lapel of his suit jacket. “You look very handsome,” I said teasingly.

Royce grinned at me cockily. “If I’m going to have the birthday girl on my arm for the evening I have to look good.” His eyes dropped down to my dress, and he traced a finger down the deep vee of the halterneck dress, coming to rest in between my breasts. I could hardly breathe. “Especially when the birthday girl is looking this pretty,” he said huskily.

For a long moment he simply stared down at me, before he laughed a little breathlessly and dropped his hand. “I came early because I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “Let’s go in the sitting room.”

I let him take my elbow and lead me towards the sitting room. One of the waiters hired for the evening to make and hand round the cocktails came forward with a tray, but Royce waved him away irritably. “Not now.”

My heart was pounding. He wanted to talk to me…anticipation curled in my stomach. I took a deep breath and sat decorously down on the sofa that Royce pushed me towards, looking up at him through lowered lashes. He loomed above me for a moment and then sat beside me, his thigh pressed against mine.

“I have something for you.” Royce reached into his jacket pocket and fished out a small present wrapped in silver paper and tied with a bow. He watched me take it, a smile lighting up his eyes as I thanked him. “You don’t know what it is yet- open it.”

I tore off the paper and then slowed, my hands trembling as I saw the jewellery box in held. Oh…and there it was. A ring, the slender white gold filigreed band topped with an enormous round brilliant cut diamond. “Royce…” I breathed.

Royce dropped to one knee in front of me and met my eyes unsmilingly. “It’s an engagement ring. I want you for my wife…will you marry me, Rosalie?”

My heart thudded almost painfully, but there was no doubt in my mind- wasn’t this what I’d always wanted, after all? “Yes Royce,” I whispered. “I will…”

“Good.” Royce took the jewellery box from my hands and took out the beautiful ring and slid it on to my finger.

For a moment I was transfixed by the sight of it, the sparkling diamond on my finger and my hands looking so small and slender in Royce’s big ones. I looked at him with a heartfelt smile. “It’s beautiful.”

Royce’s grin was triumphant as he rose to his feet. “Of course it’s beautiful. The best that money can buy for my beautiful wife…I’m only interested in the best, Rosalie.”

He drew me to my feet and kissed me with a fierce possessiveness he’d never shown before, holding me so tight against him that it felt like I could feel every inch of his masculine body against mine, despite all the layers of clothes between us. I pulled back and for a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t let me go, but then his arms relaxed around me and he was holding my face, smiling down at me as I gasped.

“My innocent little Rose,” he murmured. “My lovely wife…look at you tremble.” He tilted his head to the side and considered me for a moment, and then lowered his head to gently press a chaste kiss on to my forehead.

I could feel my body quivering, and I forced myself to stand up straight and steady. Stop being such a silly child! I rested my hand on Royce’s arm and looked at him coyly. “You’ll have to speak to Father.”

“Already done, darling,” Royce said cheerfully, patting my hand. “I spoke to him last week and he gave his blessing. Talked it over with my parents too and the old man couldn’t be more pleased. They’ll be along later tonight. Ah,” he looked up at the door and grinned widely as Father and Mother entered. “Just in time…Mr and Mrs Hale, your daughter has made me a happy man tonight by accepting my proposal of marriage.”

Royce and my father shook hands, as Mother came over and hugged me before taking my hand to examine the ring. “It’s lovely…Rosalie my darling, I’m so happy for you. This is wonderful news! Royce, congratulations.”

Father came and hugged me too, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “Just look at you, Princess,” he said, beaming at me. “Engaged! Congratulations, I’m sure you’re going to be very happy and he’s going to take good care of you. Let me just go and get champagne…we’re celebrating more than just your birthday now Princess!”

I smiled and laughed and hung off Royce’s arm as we drank a toast and then began greeting my guests as they arrived. The night became a blur of congratulations and kisses and showing off my ring and drinking pink cocktails…I was dizzy with the triumph of it, for hadn’t I just ensured that my life was going to be some kind of dream? Royce was handsome and charming and he wanted me…married to him I would be wealthy and important and taken care of. I would be a princess in a castle, with my handsome husband and beautiful babies, and then my whole life would be perfect.


	4. Emmett - An Interesting Offer

“If I’d known you were being a laundry maid I’d have brought you all my smalls!”

Still holding the wooden fork I was using to fish clothes out of the boiling copper I swung around to find my friend Albie leaning against the doorframe and eyeing me with amusement. I swore as something slid off the fork and landed with a wet splat on the dirt floor. “Fuck off.”

“You said a bad word!” Elizabeth, perched on a bench sorting socks frowned at me reprovingly.

“No I didn’t.” I picked up the previously clean pinafore from the dirt and threw it back into the copper, blowing frantically on my scalded fingertips. “Albie, if you’ve come here to give me grief you can just turn around and march right back home.”

“Just kidding pal. I’ll behave.”

“Good. “ I began rolling clothes through the mangle, squeezing the water out.

“I’ve put all the socks in pairs,” Elizabeth announced. “And there are three with holes.”

“Okay, take them into Ma for darning,” I told her, pausing long enough to lift her down from the bench so she could run inside the house.

“How is your Ma?” Albie asked.

“Getting better.  Doc says she can get up next week, although she isn’t allowed to do any real work or anything for a few more weeks after that. I can’t wait…I’m sick of Hannah’s cooking.” I laughed, and Albie grinned back.

“So the operation worked and everything?”

“Yeah. Doc was really happy with how it went and how she’s recovering. It’s just going to take time for her to get back on top of things.” I dropped the last of the wrung out clothes into the basket and hefted it up with a sigh. “In the meantime I’m the family laundry boy.”

Albie followed me out to the yard, where I began pegging the clothes onto the line strung between some trees.  “You _could_ give me a hand!”

“I _could_ ,” he agreed, “Doesn’t mean I’m _going_ to. And I thought your Hannah was a good cook? The sandwiches she gave me last week were great.”

I looked at him suspiciously. Albie had recently begun taking just that little bit too much interest in my sister Hannah. “She makes good bread,” I conceded. “And honestly, she’s pretty good with most things. I just want Ma’s pies and cakes back.”

Albie laughed. “Do you ever think of anything but your stomach?”

I snorted. “Sometimes I think about girls to break it up a bit.” I hung up a couple of Hannah’s aprons. “So what’s happening with you?”

“Nothing.” Albie kicked disconsolately at the ground. “Still no work, and things are getting really tight at home. I’ve been thinking of taking off and seeing if there’s work anywhere else. I wouldn’t mind some travelling.”

“The newspaper says it’s the same everywhere,” I remarked.

“Yeah, but at least if I took off I wouldn’t be Ma’s responsibility anymore,” Albie muttered.

I made a sympathetic noise. I knew about the hopelessness of unemployment. I hadn’t had any steady work in a year, although Mr Allison hired me on whenever he needed an extra hand. But my family had Pa in regular work, and enough land to grow vegetables and keep chickens and a couple of cows. Albie’s mother cleaned houses for a few coins each week, and keeping her two younger boys as well as an adult son was hard work.

“We can go fishing once I’m done with the laundry,” I offered. “We might catch something for dinner.”

Albie shook his head. “No thanks Emmett. I’m actually on my way over to the Silas place. I heard that old Colum might be needing someone to help him for a bit and I thought I’d head over that way and see. Maybe he’ll take me on.”

“Good luck,” I said sincerely.

After Albie ambled away down the road I went on with the washing, sweating and swearing at the heat and the steam from the copper. Maybe I could get a job in a laundry, I thought sourly. I did what I could to help out without complaining, but being stuck with the laundry and scrubbing the floors and making pigtails weren’t exactly the manliest of tasks. At least it was only Albie who’d come by and found me up to my elbows in soapsuds; he was a good guy and wouldn’t give me too much grief.

When the wash was finally all hung out and fluttering in the breeze, I stripped off my soaked shirt and hung it too, and then wandered over to the pasture fence. I leaned on it and stared across the field disconsolately. I missed Star. I still saw her occasionally around the district and she was doing well with Mr Miller, but I’d started to think it was never going to hurt any less that she wasn’t mine anymore.

I gnawed at a fingernail. I hoped Albie had got some work over at the Silas farm and wouldn’t decide to take off to search for a job elsewhere. My older brother Harry had done that over a year ago, and we hadn’t heard from him since. I thought about my other brothers, Patrick in the seminary and John married and working a farm down in Georgia, and thought glumly that none of them had hung around home being a burden as long as I had. Even my big sister Kitty had gone and got married three years ago and lived in town now and never asked Ma and Pa for anything.

“Emmett, the pie is ready.” Elizabeth tugged on my pants, distracting me from my thoughts. “Hannah wants you to come in.”

“Okay then Trouble,” I said, swinging her upside down and heading towards the house.

“I’m not trouble, YOU are!” Elizabeth’s words were hardly understandable through her laughter.

I tickled her dirty bare feet and carried her upside down to the house, not turning her until I could dump her in her chair. She pushed her curly dark hair, the same as mine, back out of her face and beamed at me. I grinned back and messed her hair up a little more.

Hannah served the lunch, which disappeared within minutes. Everyone was starving and Hannah’s pie was good, even if it had a lot more potato than meat to fill it out.

“Good pie,” I complimented her, noticing how tired she looked. Ma’s period of convalescence had been difficult for everyone, but Hannah had borne the brunt of all the extra work. “You should have a rest this afternoon,” I said to her. “We don’t want you getting sick too.”

“But there’s so much to do,” Hannah protested. “There’s all the ironing now that you’ve done the wash and…”

“Forget it,” I said sternly. “I’ll help you later, but you need a break kiddo.”

Hannah’s face relaxed as she laughed. “You don’t know how to iron!”

“I can learn! Or else I can chop the veggies or knead the bread or something while you do it tomorrow.” I looked at her keenly. “But I’m serious Hannie- go sit in the sun for a little while and relax.”

“Okay, I will.” Hannah looked pleased. “I guess the ironing will still be there tomorrow…I’ll just do the dishes now. Will and Stephen, you can dry. Maggie, you can take in Mama’s lunch.” Hannah whisked about the kitchen, organising everyone.

I followed Maggie into Ma and Pa’s room. My shirts were all out on the line, so I was going to borrow one of Pa’s to wear for the afternoon.

“Hello Em love,” Ma said, smiling at me from the bed.

I said hello and took a shirt from the cupboard. It barely buttoned up- I was twenty years old and still sometimes surprised to realise that I was bigger than my Pa.

Ma was eating slowly, and Maggie was sitting on the foot of the bed with her patchwork. While Hannah had been looking after the house, Maggie had been playing nurse to Ma.

Elizabeth trailed in, a book clutched in both hands. “Mama, will you read to me?” she said plaintively.

“I’m just eating my lunch sweetie…maybe Em will read to you?”

Elizabeth turned to me and held out the book. It wasn’t one I knew, and I said doubtfully, “You don’t want me to read your fairy tale book?” I’d memorised all the hard words in that one.

“No. I want this book that I borrowed from the library by my very own self,” Elizabeth informed me proudly.

Sighing I gave in to the inevitable and Elizabeth and I joined Ma and Maggie on the bed and I began to read. Ma drowsily corrected any words I stumbled over, and I read until she was asleep and my voice was hoarse.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I whispered. “Let’s get out of here and let Ma get some rest.” The two girls tiptoed out, and I pulled the curtain across the window and followed them out.

Albie reappeared after lunch, looking gloomy. “Thirty men already there ahead of me,” he told me. “Not a chance in hell.”

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely.

“I just wonder where it’s going to end,” Albie said quietly. “What do you do in the end when there’s no work? I mean, I’ve had to give up smoking because I can’t spend money on that when Ma’s going to the church for food baskets. At least you’ve got a bit of land to work on…I’m just so goddamn _bored_!”

I laughed a little, but I was troubled. Albie had always been such an optimist, it was unnerving to see him so discouraged. “Well, you can always come on over and give me a hand with the laundry,” I joked.

He laughed at that. “I’m not _that_ bored!”

“Things will pick up,” I said with conviction. “They have to…it can’t stay like this forever. Then we’ll get jobs and be wishing for some more free time! Come on, I don’t have anything to do this afternoon, let’s play some football.”

_________________________________________________________________

I was taking the washing down from the line when Pa got home from the Allison’s that evening, folding it clumsily in an attempt to not create any extra ironing for Hannah. Some of the clothes were so thin and threadbare that they couldn’t hold a wrinkle at all.

“You’re a good lad to help the girls and your mother,” Pa said to me. “We’d miss you a lot if you weren’t here.”

His voice sounded odd, and I looked at him closely. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Pa said noncommittally.

“What’s going on?” I asked, suspicious.

“Nothing to worry about now. We’ll go in and have dinner, and maybe we’ll talk about it with your Ma afterwards.”

I was curious, but I never got anywhere badgering Pa about anything, and an afternoon of football had made me pretty hungry. So I went and sat down at the crowded table and ate Hannah’s biscuits and gravy and vegetables, and then the rice pudding that Maggie had made for dessert.

I left the girls doing the dishes and the younger boys feeding and watering the animals and took the shotgun out. Twilight was usually a good hunting time, but luck wasn’t on my side and I took some lousy shots, coming home empty handed in the dark.

The house was quiet. Will and Stephen were asleep on pallets on the floor of our bedroom. Maggie and Hannah were in their nightgowns, playing checkers at the kitchen table. I could hear the low murmur of conversation from Ma and Pa’s room, and then I heard my Pa calling me in.

“How’d the hunting go?”

I shook my head. “I got nothing.” I was careful to keep my voice low. Elizabeth was asleep in the room, crammed into the crib in the corner. At five she was far too big for it, and had to sleep scrunched in a little ball, but she preferred it to moving into the big bed in the other room with Hannah and Maggie.

Ma smiled at me. “Come sit down. We want to talk to you.”

“I haven’t done anything, honest,” I said immediately. “Really…I haven’t been out for ages and…”

“You’re not in trouble, lad,” Pa said gruffly.

“Oh. Well then.” I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up expectantly.

“I had a letter,” Pa started. “From my brother Lachlan. You know which one he is?”

“He’s the one who went north?” I said uncertainly. “Something about the war?”

Pa nodded. “Right. During his time in the war, your uncle Lachlan became close to his CO. He was with him when he died and wrote to his mother. When the war ended she offered to find him a job, and so Lachlan went north to work for her other son. Some place in New York called Rochester.”

I shrugged, a little puzzled. What did this have to do with me?

Ma reached up and ran a hand through my hair, pulling the curls straight and then letting them bounce back, the only person I would ever allow to do such a thing. “Lachlan wrote to us that the son of the family is soon going to be married, and is setting up his own household. It won’t be as large as the family home that Lachlan works in, but he’ll still need staff. One thing he needs is a man to be a general handyman, chauffer and gardener. Lachlan was asked if he knew anyone, and he thought that one of you boys might suit.”

I gaped at her, completely shocked. “Like…a real job? Me?”

“Of course you!” Ma said with a laugh. “I think Will and Stephen might be just a wee bit young, don’t you?”

“But I don’t…” I stopped, not sure what I was trying to say.

“You’ve wanted work for a long time,” Ma said gently. “Think how good it will be to be earning your own money Em.”

“It’s so far away.” I didn’t even know _how_ far away it was, all I knew was the New York seemed like the most glamorous place on earth and a long way from our shabby little farm in Tennessee.

Ma and Pa didn’t disagree with me, and I hunched my shoulders, feeling ashamed of being so reluctant to be away from my family. “I would miss everyone,” I said in a low voice. “And who’ll do all my jobs?”

“We’ll manage,” Ma said cheerfully. “You’ve taught the little boys about the snares, and my operation was a success- once I’ve recovered I’m not going to be sick anymore so I can take back the laundry and do the cooking like I’ve always done.”

“I’ll do more hunting,” Pa promised. “And Mr Allison said we can put the heifers in with his bull so we’ll have calves and milk come spring.”

“And I’ll send you money!” I said eagerly. “If I’m working then I can help out.”

“That would be wonderful,” Ma said, pulling my head down she could kiss my forehead. “But you need to take care of yourself too.”

“But would they really want me?” I said, coming back to earth. “I haven’t done anything like that…you think posh people really want me working for them?”

“You’re as good as anyone else,” Ma said sharply. “You just remember your manners and do what you know is right and they’ll have no cause for complaint.”

“You’ll do fine,” Pa said brusquely. “You’re handy enough and you’ve done well with the vegetable gardens here. Lachlan writes that he can help you out with the gardening too, telling you what to plant and when. You’re a hard worker Emmett, and you learn quick. This could be a real good chance for you. We’ve got the car out there that I can get going again so you can drive yourself up there.”

“But Pa!” I said in desperation. “I don’t know how to drive!”

“Well,” Pa scratched his head. “You’ve got from here to Rochester to learn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – And that’s how we get Emmett in Rosalie’s orbit! When I thought about the elements keeping them apart, geography was kind of the biggest one. Moving Emmett to Rochester for work seemed the easiest (and most likely) scenario, but for him to just up and move states away on a whim wasn’t realistic. He needed to have a real reason to move away, and a real reason to choose Rochester of all places, so that’s why I introduced the uncle, to give him those reasons.


	5. Rosalie - The Perfect Couple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is being put up quickly because it’s the last of the pre-written chapters I had…sooner it goes up the soon we get onto some original Rosalie to go along with sweetheart Emmett.

“Come on Rosalie, we’re going to be late,” Royce stood impatiently in the doorway of my bedroom, tapping his feet.

“I know, I’m sorry!” l pulled at the stiff buckle on my shoe with fingers made awkward with haste. On our way out the door for the Charitable Foundation’s Annual Ball I had tripped on the step and broken the heel of my shoe. Bad enough to have been so clumsy in full view of Royce’s parents waiting in the limousine, but now Royce had followed me upstairs to my room and was watching with irritated eyes, making me even more flustered as I tried to put myself back together again.

The buckle finally came free with a jerk, but snagged on the delicate silk of my stocking and tore it. I looked across at Royce. “I have to change my stockings,” I said.

“So do it,” Royce didn’t move, his eyes suddenly alert. “Go on Rose, it’s not as though we’re not going to be married in less than a month.” He frowned. “Just hurry up- my parents are waiting.”

For a moment I dithered. Mother would never approve…but of course Royce was right, we’d be married soon enough. I couldn’t keep his parents waiting longer than I had to. My parents had left for the ball themselves twenty minutes earlier. Flushing scarlet, I turned my back on Royce, pulling up my dress so I could unclip my stockings.

I didn’t hear him move to stand behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt his hand. I went to push my dress back down but with his other hand he took a fistful of fabric, keeping it bunched up on my thighs. “Nice…” he murmured, his eyes scanning the length of my bare legs, from my toes to the dress pushed up high on my thighs.

I didn’t say a word, but my face was scarlet and my eyes huge as I looked up at him.

He knelt down beside me, one hand heavy on my leg, and looked into my eyes. “You’re beautiful when you’re afraid, Rosalie.” His hand stroked my cheek. “You’re going to be my wife, and you won’t hide from me then will you? _Will you_?”

Dumbly I shook my head, and shivered when Royce ran his hand down my leg and then back up my thigh, pushing my dress up even higher. He gave me the strangest smile before he stood up again.

“Good. Now get dressed,” he said briskly. “We’re late as it is.”

I took a deep breath and pulled on a fresh pair of stockings and new shoes as quickly as my shaking hands could manage, taking up my wrap since the night was cool. Royce took my arm with as much deference and courtesy as he ever did, and by the time I was sliding into the limousine with his parents I was able to smile at them apparently unruffled.

The limousine was the height of luxury, and I enjoyed riding in it. I loved being with Royce’s family and all the privileges of their wealth and position in the community that it afforded. I loved the way that when we arrived at the Stratford-Banks’ home we were immediately ushered in and greeted with graciousness that almost bordered on deference. I loved knowing that everyone was looking at me with envy and admiration. I loved having my photograph taken for the society pages of the newspaper, and knowing that I looked beautiful.

“I have to go and find someone,” Royce murmured to me after the photograph was taken.

“That’s fine,” I answered, adding teasingly “Don’t be long though!”

He laughed. “Okay Princess.”

He disappeared into the crowd and I moved through it, accepting compliments and smiles and making small talk. I had pushed Royce’s odd behaviour in my bedroom well out of my mind by then, and was back to feeling happy and confident. When one of the Stratford-Banks sons asked me to dance, I didn’t even hesitate to accept and within a moment I was out on the floor with him, laughing in exhilaration at the fast music.

I looked around for Royce as I danced but couldn’t see him, and didn’t really worry too much. I had known my dance partner, Carter, for most of my life and we’d always been friends. We moved well together on the dance floor and he had a biting sense of humour that always made me laugh, so I enjoyed his company enough that it was easy to lose track of time.

Eventually Royce found me, approaching Carter and I with a careless smile. “Carter, old man, good to see you.”

“You too Royce.” The two of them clasped hands briefly. “Not long now until you will have bagged Rosalie,” Carter teased, winking at me. “I’ve known the minx all her life, and you’re getting a handful with her!”

I poked my tongue out at him, laughing, but the look Royce threw me sent a shiver of unease up my spine. His hand closed around my upper arm.

“Of course, I’m a lucky man.” Royce’s fingers tightened on my arm. “If you’ll excuse us now Carter, I need a word with Rosalie.”

He towed me off the dance floor and out into the garden. His iron grip on my arm gave me little choice but to hurry to keep up with him as he strode through the garden and into a secluded space by the greenhouses.

I tried to pull away. “Royce, stop it…you’re hurting me.” His fingers gripped even tighter, digging in to the soft flesh of my arm until I couldn’t stop a whimper of pain. “Royce…”

“I don’t ever want to see that again,” Royce’s voice was flat and hard and I cringed at the sound of it. “You…flirting like some common slut…” His free hand seized mine, crushing my fingers together as he brought my hand up to my eyes. I could see the diamond on my engagement ring, blue in the dim moonlight. “You see that?” he went on harshly. “That’s my ring. You’re going to be my wife…I will _own_ you Rosalie…”

“I didn’t do anything!” I scrabbled helplessly at his hand on my arm, twisting to get free as tears stung my eyes. “Please Royce …I wouldn’t… _I’m sorry!”_

He released his grip on my arm so suddenly that I staggered, but then his arms went around me and he kissed me, hard enough to bruise my lips and make me dizzy, holding me crushed against him, his hips grinding in to me… _oh God, what are you doing?_

“You’re beautiful Rose,” Royce growled, his eyes boring into mine and his breath hot on his face. “I don’t want anyone else to touch or look at what’s mine. I don’t want you ever to look at anyone else… _just me._ Understand?”

“Yes!” I gasped. “I understand! Please Royce…”

I was mortified to feel tears on my face. Royce took a step back, and then his hands were on me again, but this time there was only gentleness as he took his handkerchief and wiped my face. “Don’t cry little Rose,” he said tenderly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Watching you flirt with him just made me crazy with jealousy…” He caressed my arms, and even in the pale light out here in the night I could see the dark marks his fingers had left in my pale skin. Gently Royce took my beaded wrap and draped it over my shoulders, covering up the bruises and kissing me so sweetly that I felt myself leaning into him again. “My innocent Rose…”

“Royce!”

 _Oh my god!_ I stumbled backwards, horrified to see Royce’s father glaring at us from the path. I prayed he couldn’t see the blush that was burning my cheeks.

“Father…” Royce whined, but Mr King stepped towards us, every line of his body radiating anger.

“Royce, I’ve been looking for you. I want a word. Rosalie, go back to the house.” He didn’t even look at me.

“Go on Rose,” Royce muttered.

I didn’t hesitate. Pulling my wrap tighter around me so that it wouldn’t fall I stepped quickly around Mr King and back to the path. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. All I wanted was to get back to the lighted house but my legs were shaking too much, and I knew my face was flushed. I stopped for a moment, leaning against the cool glass walls of the greenhouse and breathing deeply, and only then did I realise that I could clearly hear Royce and his father.

“By God, you’re like a cat playing with a mouse,” Mr King’s voice was strident with disgust. “I won’t have it Royce! I’ve heard all the stories and I’ve told you that I’ll not let you bring shame on this family and sully our good name because you can’t control yourself! I saw you dragging that girl out of there…”

“I didn’t do anything,” Royce said sulkily. “Rosalie’s my fiancée, I can…”

“No, you _can’t_!” Mr King roared. “Not yet! Three weeks…you marry her in three weeks. Until then you keep your nose clean and don’t you dare do anything to her that might screw that up!”

“She…”

“Damn it Royce, I don’t want to know! I found you that girl- she’s from a good family and she knows how to behave. For Christ’s sake, she’s even pretty!” Royce’s father snarled. “She’s the wife you need, and you _will_ marry her and get a baby on her and give me a grandson, damn you…I don’t care what you do with her after that!”

I fled. I couldn’t have them know I’d overhead that, and I didn’t want to hear anymore. What was going on? What were all these undercurrents and hidden elements that I couldn’t understand…surely my perfect life wasn’t going to be complicated? I was beautiful, and Royce loved me and wanted to marry me, we were going to be rich and important and…surely that was going to be enough and I was going to be happy?

 My pride and my will had me moving gracefully into the house as if nothing untoward had happened. I smiled and nodded and even blew a kiss across the room to a friend; and if my wrap hid an arm that bore the dark imprint of a hand in bruised flesh, and I locked myself in the powder room for a moment and let the tears fall, no one would ever know. I waited until I was composed before I went out, finding my mother redoing her lipstick, peering in the mirror.

“Rosalie, I just wanted to see how your evening is?” she said, coming over and frowning as she smoothed my hair. “I saw you with Royce earlier, and he looked a little cross.”

I stood docilely and let her, fidgeting with the ends of my wrap. “I’m a little tired,” I said, my eyes low. “Royce…it’s fine. He wasn’t pleased that I was dancing with Carter Stratford-Banks, that’s all.”

Mother paused in her ministrations. “Don’t upset him Rosalie,” she said at last. “You’re going to be his wife, and it may not always be easy. You need to always be mindful of him.”

“But...”

“No,” Mother shook her head. “No buts, Rosalie. Royce is able to offer you everything we have ever wanted for you, you must learn to manage him.” She kissed my forehead. “Now put a smile on your face and go back out there. He’ll be waiting for you.”

Royce was waiting for me, smiling like nothing had happened, although his jaw was tense and I could smell the alcohol on his breath when he gently kissed my cheek. But he was gallant and charming, and we danced and he made me laugh and I tried to forget what I had overheard in the garden.

We were alone in the limousine on the drive home, his parents having left earlier. Royce sprawled back in the seat, tossing his jacket on the floor and removing his tie and unbuttoning half his shirt. I’d never seen him in a state of dishevelment before, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“You’re blushing, little Rose,” Royce said teasingly, leaning towards me.

I certainly was. As he moved I could see the dark curly hair on his chest, and sprawled back on the seat with his legs apart as he had been had made everything in his trousers embarrassingly obvious to my innocent eyes. He slid across the seat to me, holding me in his hypnotic gaze.

“I like to see you blushing,” he murmured against my lips, kissing me. “I like it that you get so flustered when I look at you…every time I looked at you tonight I remembered the way you looked with your dress up and my hand on your thigh.” Still kissing me, with kisses so gentle and sweet that I found myself sinking into his arms, I barely noticed at first that his hand was sliding up my leg, pulling my dress up with it. It wasn’t until I felt his fingers on the bare skin between my stocking tops and my knickers that I realised that things were getting a little out of hand.

“Royce…”

“Shhh, Rose, shhh, don’t talk…” He kissed me again, distracting me in a way that worked until I felt his fingers brushing at the lace edge of my knickers.

“No, Royce!” I struggled to pull away, but I was backed into the corner of the seat and there was nowhere to go. “Royce, you can’t…the driver!” I was mortified at the idea that anyone, even the driver, might see me with my dress all hitched up and Royce’s hands trying to touch me.

“It doesn’t matter,” Royce muttered. “God Rose, we’re practically married…” His mouth came down on mine, and he kissed me so ardently that I couldn’t help but respond, even as I tried to press my legs together to keep his hands away. “I don’t want to wait…you drive me crazy…” Royce moved his hand from trying to navigate his way into my knickers, instead slipping it inside my dress so he could grasp my breast.

I was starting to panic when the car slowed and then stopped, and the driver tapped on the privacy screen that had thankfully remained up during our drive. I was home. “Royce,” I gasped, squirming away as best I could in the confined space. “You have to stop, we’re home…my parents!”

Royce groaned and flopped back on the seat. I tugged at my dress, trying to get everything in order before someone saw me. I was shaking, even more so after I looked across at him and saw the swelling bulge in his trousers. I knew that men were made different to women, but I didn’t really know _how_ and seeing that…all those whispers and stories and my mother’s “you’ll find out when you’re older and married” answer to my childish questions suddenly took on a menacing air.

“I have to go inside,” I said tremblingly.

“Of course,” Royce climbed out of the car and took my arm up the walk. At the door he smiled at me with his usual charm and kissed me gently and lovingly on the mouth. “You were the most beautiful girl at the ball tonight,” he told me. “I do adore you, my little Rose…tell me that you love me too. Tell me that I’m the only one for you.”

“You’re the only one for me,” I repeated, because I was naïve enough to believe it and besotted enough with him to overlook everything and do what I could to please him. I was rewarded with a smile and another tender kiss, and then I went inside and up to my room, exhausted and bewildered.

   I was in my nightgown with my face scrubbed, and was brushing my hair when Mother came in to say goodnight. She took the brush from my hand and ran it through my long hair.

“Mother,” I said slowly, “I wanted to ask you about…when I’m married…what Royce will expect.” My voice trailed off.

_He wants to touch me. I know there’s more to it than what he was doing tonight, but I don’t know what and I don’t know what to do and I’m frightened Mother…_

Mother’s face was a dull red as she stopped brushing my hair and began weaving it into a loose braid. “You mean in the bedroom?”

“I…I suppose.” My face was burning.

“There are certain things that go along with being a wife,” Mother said. “Of course you know that…he’ll have needs Rosalie, and it’s your marital obligation to fulfil them. It might be embarrassing, but you must just be a good girl and do what he tells you will please him. It will be all right in the end, and that’s how he’ll give you a baby, so it is necessary. Just do what he tells you.” She tied the end of my plait and kissed me on the top of the head. “Now, into bed with you.”

I wasn’t going to get anything more informative out of her. She was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, and I was beyond embarrassed to have even bought up the subject. Turning out the light I lay in bed, running my silky braid through my fingers and feeling unshed tears burning in my eyes, telling myself it would be fine. Royce would be my husband, he would take care of me and love me and never hurt me…wouldn’t he?


	6. Emmett - Goodbye

“Emmett! Over here!”

I heard Albie’s foghorn voice over the noise of everything in the dancehall, and looking around I saw him waving energetically at me from a vantage point near the punch table. I grinned at him, and then grinned even wider when I saw that the rest of the gang were all there too. Gavin, Harry, Ron, Jack…somehow they’d all scrounged up enough money to come out on my last night at home, before I left for Rochester.

“You’re late!” Albie scolded me.

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Ma,” I said sarcastically, adding in my regular tones, “The old man couldn’t give me some money without a good helping of lecture on the side.”

“Soon you’ll be earning your own money,” Gavin said, more than a trace of envy in his voice. “And in New York, of all places!”

“Not New York City,” I reminded them. “Just some other city in the state. Rochester.”

I knew where it was by then. Maggie had a map of all the states in her school geography book, and she’d shown us all where I was going. Uncle Lachlan had sent driving instructions too. My few possessions were in a beaten up old duffel bag on the seat of the car, and I had jerry cans of extra water and fuel. I was all set.

Apart from the minor matter of being completely fucking terrified that is!

But I had come out for a good time, not to worry about things, so I reached out and took Albie’s flask, taking a swig that had my eyes nearly bugging out of my head. Moonshine whisky at its worst- strong enough to blind you if you could stand the taste of it long enough to get to that point.

“Where did you _get_ that?” I croaked. It felt like it had permanently damaged my throat, and was currently burning the lining of my stomach as tears absolutely poured from my eyes.

“Old Colum Silas,” Albie said with a grin, as all the others laughed at me.

“Talk about rot-gut liquor!” I shook my head and winked. “Well I got a goodbye gift from Jeb Allison, and you’re all familiar with the Allisons’ work…”

“Lead the way,” Albie said, hastily shoving his own flask back in his pocket. Everyone knew that the Allisons made the best moonshine in the area. We couldn’t usually afford it, so the whole bottle Jeb had given me as a going-away present was a real treat.

We left the hall and retrieved the bottle from where I’d hidden it in the stream running along the back of the hall. I filled my flask, a battered silver flask I’d inherited from Grandad, and then the six of us passed around the bottle until it was all gone. Not as eye-watering as the muck I’d drunk from Albie’s flask it was still very strong, and all of us were nicely buzzed as we made our way back inside.

“The red head over there,” Harry said after his eyes made a quick sweep of the room. “In the brown dress…I’m going to go and ask her to dance. Wish me luck fellas.”

The rest of us watched him saunter casually across the hall. The red head, who’d watched him all the way, blushed as red as her hair as she nodded and took his hand. I wasn’t surprised. In as much as I’d ever thought about such things, I probably would have said that Jack was the best looking of us. Or at least, he lived in town and had a kind of movie star polish that us farm boys lacked.

“So Emmett…when were you going to ask me to dance?”

I looked down. It was Laura, a sassy girl I’d been seeing around at the dances for the last months, smirking at me flirtatiously.

“Oh, maybe now,” I teased, and then laughed as I grabbed her small, warm hands and tugged her out onto the dance floor.

“I hear you’re leaving,” Laura said as we danced.

“Yeah, I’ve got a job,” I said proudly. “Up north, in a city in New York.”

“Oooh, big man,” Laura teased.

“Damn straight,” I joked back, spinning her around. Laughing, she leaned close to me and I smelled the perfume she must have dabbed on before she came to the dance. “You smell good.”

Laura giggled. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the ones who do,” I answered with a wink.

It was a good night. My friends and I had fun talking and messing around with girls, and my flask kept up my buzz without being too much. Not that I minded getting drunk so much, but it was my last night at home and I didn’t want to upset Pa if I didn’t have to.

I ended up in the shadows with Laura at the end of the night. Some kisses and a little bit of fumbling around, but then her friends called to her. With one last, lingering kiss she left me, making me promise not to forget her.

I said I wouldn’t. There wasn’t anything serious between us, but I liked her. She was fun and pretty, and as well as kissing me she let me touch her breasts so I was pretty fond of her. But Rochester was a damn long way from Gatlinburg, and I wasn’t at all sure when I’d be getting home again after I left, so I wasn’t going to make any promises about the future.

The long walk sobered me up, and I was tired by the time I came in sight of home. But I caught sight of something glowing on the porch, and when I came closer I saw it was Pa, having a smoke.

“Pa? What are you still doing up?” I asked.

“Hi lad, how was the dance?”

I sat down on the porch beside his chair. “It was fun. A good send-off …I’m going to miss my friends.”

“Ah, I know. You’ll find some new pals to do things with when you have some time off though.” Pa took another puff on his cigarette, and I breathed in the familiar scent of the tobacco.

“I’m going to miss everyone,” I said, half shyly. “All the family.”

“We’re going to miss you too Em,” Dad said gruffly. “I know you don’t like to do it, but you’d better make sure you write too! She’s hiding it, but your Ma isn’t all that happy about you going so far away and she’s going to miss you sorely. Elizabeth too, write to her…well, everyone really.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I will.”

“We’re proud of you Em,” Pa said. “You’ve been a good lad here at home, and I know you’ll do your best and get on in your new job.”

From my Pa, who wasn’t exactly a speechmaker normally, this was saying a lot and I had to blink hard before I managed to mutter, “Thanks.”

“Alright then, we’d better get on to bed,” Pa said, grinding out his cigarette. “You’ve got a long drive tomorrow. And if you drank too much tonight, go and sleep in the barn and don’t wake the other kids.”

Having not drunk too much, I took my boots off on the porch and left my trousers and shirt in the kitchen and, in my shorts, slipped silently into the bedroom. It occurred to me that I’d spent most of my twenty years sleeping in this room, and yet this was the last night. It had always seemed hot and crowded and noisy, sharing first with my older brothers and Kitty, and then the younger ones, but as I looked around I thought that I might miss it.  Hannah and Maggie were asleep in the big bed, Will and Stephen sprawled out on their pallets on the floor. I unrolled my own bed and lay down, listening to the breathing of the others around me until I fell asleep.

It felt odd the next morning to get dressed in my good clothes while Elizabeth hovered nearby looking mournful.

“Do you _have_ to go?”

“Yeah, I do.” I ruffled her curly hair. “It’s time for me to be a grown up and have a proper job.”

“When do you come back?”

“I don’t know. But while I’m away I’ll write you a letter…would that be good?” I offered.

Elizabeth considered. “If it’s _just_ for me,” she said sternly. “Not for Will and Stephen or Maggie or Hannah. Just for me.”

“Okay.” I showed her the little bundle Ma had put together for me, with some notepaper and pencils and stamped envelopes. “See…all ready for writing letters.”

I slapped some water on my hair, trying unsuccessfully to neaten the curls, and then went into the kitchen where Ma was making pancakes because they were my favourite. It was still odd to see her up and about after so long in bed, but it was good too. Made it feel more like home.

“Eat up Emmett,” Ma ordered. “I’m making you up a packet of sandwiches to take with you and some smoked ham and some apples, and a bottle of water. Now, I want you to be very careful in that car on the way. Don’t drive yourself to exhaustion, make sure you stop and sleep at some point…”

“Ma! I’m going to be fine!” I said, though a mouthful of pancakes. “Really.”

“I know.” Ma leaned down and hugged me, kissing my head. “But I’m your mother…of course I’m going to worry.”

Everyone came out to see me leave. Will and Stephen were so impressed that Pa had got the car running again that they climbed in and refused to get out. Elizabeth hung onto my leg and Hannah cried. Eventually I shook Pa’s hand, kissed Ma on the cheek, hugged Hannah and Maggie, pried Elizabeth off my leg and pushed her into Pa’s arms. The boys I let sit in the car until I got half way to town, and then I stopped and let them out to run back home. It was only after that that I was _finally_ on my own, and I set my sights on Rochester.

It took two and a half days to drive there. I slept in the car when I was tired, and stopped by the stores on the side of the road when I was hungry. I only got lost twice, although once was when I was actually in Rochester and trying to find the place. The traffic kind of freaked me out, and I was relieved when I arrived safely.

If the traffic had been nerve-wracking, my first view of the place where my uncle Lachlan worked was almost worse. The house was a huge, white columned affair that was bigger and fancier than just about anything I’d seen before, and set in acres of landscaped gardens. Nervously I ran a hand through my hair and tugged at my crumpled shirt, wishing I had something a bit better to change into.

I didn’t though, so I simply took a deep breath and walked as casually as I could through a small side gate and then followed the drive around to the back of the house, like I’d been told to do. There was no one in the yard, so after looking around briefly I figured that there was bound to be someone in the house who could help me and I knocked on the back door.

“Can I help you?” A harried looking woman opened the door and eyed me suspiciously.

“I’m Emmett McCarty,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too much like a schoolboy. “I’m supposed to meet my uncle Lachlan here.”

“Lachlan? He’s out with Mr King at the moment, so you’d better come in and I’ll give you a cup of tea.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and vanished through another door. Since a cup of tea sounded good, I followed.

“I’m Mrs Maguire,” she told me as she handed me a mug of tea. “Lachlan didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“He got me a job,” I said, a little uncertainly. “The son…”

“Mr Royce,” Mrs Maguire informed me. “He’s getting married and he and his bride are going to be making their home a few streets away. I suppose you’ll be their man for gardening and driving and whatnot.”

“That’s what Lachlan said.” Once again I hoped I was up to the task. I’d mastered driving reasonably well in the two and a half days from Tennessee and I knew I could grow vegetables successfully, but I wasn’t sure about driving around in the city and I didn’t really know much about growing flowers like the rich people probably wanted. I thought that they probably wouldn’t need to be growing potatoes and pumpkins in the yard to fill bellies that ached with hunger.

Mrs Maguire was busy, and after giving me a second mug of tea and a thick sandwich with ham and cheese she pretty much ignored me. I didn’t mind. I was tired after the drive, and the food was good. I was finished eating and had just started feeling sleepy when the door opened and my uncle Lachlan came in.

I didn’t remember seeing him before, but I knew who he was right away. He looked just like an older version of my Pa, and I felt a sudden stab of homesickness.

“Jesus but you look like Jack!” Lachlan looked almost startled as he stared at me. A moment later he shook his head and smiled. “Good to see you, Emmett. Glad you got here safely.” I stood up and he grabbed my hand and shook it hard.

“Are you taking him round to the little house?” Mrs Maguire enquired. “Because if you are you’d best do it now, before they come up with more errands to run for this wedding.”

“Sure, I’ll take him round now,” Lachlan agreed. “Settle him in, so he’ll be ready to start work tomorrow. I know Mr Royce and Miss Rosalie won’t be moving in until after the wedding, but the good Lord above knows that we’ve got more than enough work to keep us all busy. Finish your tea, Emmett.”

Hastily I swallowed down the last dregs and then followed my uncle Lachlan outside. At his request I led him to where I had parked my car in the street, and he stared at it in horror.

“Jesus boy, you drove this from Tennessee? It doesn’t look as though it would make it to the corner!”

“Pa fixed it up,” I replied, a little nettled. “It runs fine…what’s a little rust matter?”

Lachlan grinned. “Don’t take offence boy. You wait until you see what you’ll be driving Mr Royce and his bride around in! Now, let’s get you to your new place.”

I followed his directions, and in only a few moments we arrived at what they referred to as the ‘little’ house. Sure, it was a little bit smaller than the palace we’d just left, but it was still a mansion and I had to try not to feel intimidated by it.

“Not bad, is it?” Lachlan said with a chuckle. “Your digs aren’t quite so fancy I’m afraid.”

It might not have been fancy, but the little room off the garage that was going to be mine was newer and nicer than everything I’d been used to. It was painted white and had an iron bedstead in one corner and a chest of drawers and a chair, as well as a sink with proper running water. I slung my bag down on the bed and looked at Lachlan. “What now?”

“Put your gear away, and then I’ll show you around,” Lachlan said. “Until the wedding’s over and Mr Royce and his missus move in you’ll be working here and at the big house, depending on where you’re needed. It’ll be a bit of a mess until after the wedding, but it’ll settle down after that. You’ll be fine.”


	7. Rosalie - Innocence

“Thank you! It’s lovely.”

I admired the hand painted vase, which was really very beautiful, and then added it to the collection of gifts on the table. Eleanor, my mother in law to be, made a notation in a leather covered notebook so that I’d be able to write thank you notes to the correct people after the bridal shower.

Mrs Devereux, a friend of my mothers, came and sat beside me on the sofa and I forced my face back into a smile.

“Rosalie darling, we’re all so happy for you,” she said, patting me on the knee. “Marrying into the King family is quite the coup! I hope you’re going to be very happy.”

“I’m sure I will be,” I said, with a genuine smile this time. I really _did_ believe that I was marrying my very own handsome prince and our life together would be perfect.

Mrs Devereux gave me her gift, and once I’d unwrapped and exclaimed about a beautiful linen tablecloth, she beamed at me again and then wandered off towards the table laid with a selection of tea sandwiches and little cakes and pastries.

“Rose?”

It was my old friend Vera, hovering a little uneasily on the fringes of the group with her baby Henry on her hip.

“Vera!” I exclaimed happily, patting the sofa beside me before I held out my arms. “Come sit down, and let me say hello to the little man.”

Vera handed me the baby, who sat on my lap looking around with the most adorable look of astonishment on his face.

“It’s a bridal shower,” I whispered in his ear. “And there are lots and lots of people here whom your Rosalie doesn’t even know! I think it’s the kind of party that’s much more about the mommy of the bride and the mother in law to be…at least this one is!”

Henry wrinkled his nose up at me and Vera laughed. “It’s a lovely party Rosalie.”

I shrugged and smiled at her affectionately. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’ve got a present,” Vera said. Once again I caught that look of embarrassment on her face. “It’s not much, I made it…”

“Oh, stop. I’m sure I’ll love it.” I knew Vera didn’t have much money. Most of the women here were wearing jewellery that probably cost more than Vera’s husband made in a year and the gifts I’d been receiving were extravagantly beautiful. But the idea of a present handmade just for me made me smile.

It was a wonderfully intricate crocheted lace doily. Vera had always been good at sewing and needlework – much better than I was! – but this must have taken her hours. “It’s so pretty! I’m going to put it right on my dressing table at the new house.” I flushed a little. “ _My_ house, I suppose I ought to say.”

I dipped my face a little and kissed Henry’s curls, thinking of the mansion that was going to be my home. I’d had nothing to do with the purchase; Royce’s mother had chosen it and Royce’s father had paid for it. It was stately and imposing and beautiful…of course I would learn to feel comfortable there, in time!

Anne and Kitty and Lacy came hurrying over, giggling over the store box they carried between them. “Congratulations Rosalie!” they chorused, and then held the box out towards me with a flourish.

Henry reached towards the ribbons, and Vera hastily took him onto her lap. I surrendered him a little reluctantly. He was so sweet, and it was amazing to watch him grow and learn so fast. _But soon I’ll be married,_ I reminded myself, _and maybe soon after that…_ I didn’t finish the thought.

I slid the ribbon off and gave it to Henry, who immediately shoved the bow into his mouth and began to chew.

I opened the box, and beneath the tissue paper I found layers of lace and nylon that was so soft and almost transparent that I could resist lifting it up just to feel it slide through my fingers. It was only when I was doing this that I realised that what I was holding was a nightgown, if the scandalous lingerie could even be given that name, and I dropped it back in the box like it was burning my fingers.

“It’s for your wedding night,” Kitty said with a wicked gleam in her eye.

I simply stared at her in blank astonishment. What was I supposed to do with _that?_

My friends were giggling, and even some of the older ladies had smiles on their faces. My mother looked mortified, and when I risked a glance at Eleanor, Royce’s mother, she looked coldly disapproving. Hastily I repacked the box and replaced the lid, putting it on the table with the other gifts, but a little towards the back.

However the gift had raised the spectre of the wedding night for me, and anxiety began tying my stomach in knots. My mother’s advice to just do what Royce told me and put up with it, whatever ‘it’ was, was seeming more and more inadequate the closer the event came. I couldn’t help remembering the night of the charity ball, and the way Royce had touched me then, and now this nightgown that would leave me practically _naked_ …

Vera beckoned me from over by the door. Henry was starting to fuss a little, and she was bouncing him in her arms. “I’ve got to go Rosalie, he needs his nap.”

I bent forward and kissed his forehead. “Of course. Thank you so much for coming.” A sudden thought struck me, and I looked at Vera. “I was wondering…can I ask you something.”

“Of course.” Vera looked surprised that I’d even ask.

“Not now.” I looked away, playing with Henry’s hands to hide my embarrassment. “It’s a…a private thing. Perhaps I could come to your house in the next day or so and we can talk?”

Vera leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Whenever you like Rosalie. I’ll help you if I can,” she said sincerely.

__________________________________________________________________

I walked to Vera’s house the following afternoon, my anger making my steps quick. Once again my mother had lectured me about the ‘suitability’ of Vera as a friend for me, and said that I’d be far better off making a start on my thank you cards rather than spending the afternoon with her. We had argued about it until I had flung myself out of the house in a bad mood.

Although it was cold it was sunny outside, and it didn’t take long for my irritation to dissipate. I walked through the park, feeling stylish and confident in my white wool coat and pink dress, pleasantly conscious of the admiring or envious glances of other people.

Vera’s house was small and shabby. I pictured the large, luxurious house that would become my home in a little over a week and couldn’t stop the sneaking thought that perhaps Mother was right, and Vera and I really wouldn’t have very much in common as we moved on into our adult lives. But I pushed the thought firmly away, and knocked on the door with the bright brass knocker.

“Rosalie, come in!” Vera gave me a bright smile. “I’ve just put Henry down for a nap, so we can have a cup of tea and some cake in peace.”

Vera’s house may have been small and dark and full of mismatched furniture, but it was also full of her own handmade touches that made it seem warm and welcoming. Vera took me into the kitchen and we both sat down at the little round table with her best china cups and a delicious pound cake in front of us.

“I know you didn’t come over just to chitchat,” Vera said gently, after we’d been talking for some time about the bridal shower and the wedding plans and how much solid food Henry was eating now. “You had something specific in mind…”

“Were you scared?” I said abruptly. “Before your wedding?”

Vera paused. “Scared of what?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know…the wedding itself, with so many people watching? Life afterwards, when all of a sudden I’ll have my own house and be expected to manage it? And…well, the wedding night…” My voice drifted away as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Vera and I had always been as close as sisters and talked about almost everything, but this?

“Oh, the wedding night,” Vera said thoughtfully. “I _was_ a bit scared of that, I admit. But I trusted Jim, and Mama had told me what to expect so it wasn’t too frightening.”

“My mother won’t tell me anything,” I said softly, hating feeling so ignorant and insecure.

“You mean…nothing?” Vera stared at me in surprise.

I hunched my shoulders a little, feeling the heat of embarrassment in my face. “Just that I ought to do what Royce wants and he’ll give me a baby…and none of that is any actual _use_ to me! You know that she doesn’t talk about anything important. Even when I had my time of the month for the first time I had to go and talk to _your_ mother! So that’s why I thought…maybe you…”

“Of course, I can explain.” Vera’s cheeks went pink. “Men…what have you and Royce done together?”

I could have crawled under the table. “He kisses me. He touches, a little bit…”

“Do you touch him?” Vera’s voice was very matter of fact, and I began to feel a little steadier.

“No. Not anywhere that I shouldn’t.”

“So you don’t know what a man is like without his clothes on?”

“No!”

Vera frowned. “Rosalie, I’m going to draw you a picture. And then I’m going to talk to you and it’s going to be horribly embarrassing, but the more you know the easier things will be for you.”

Vera drew me a picture and after that she talked to me about sex, and what was going to happen to me on my wedding night. It might have been embarrassing if I had had the room for any emotion other than shock. As it was I simply stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment until Vera laughed and tossed her picture into the fire.

“Rosalie! You must have had some idea!”

Dazedly I shook my head, although the memories of Royce after the charity ball, rubbing against me and trying to put his hands down my dress and in my knickers kept creeping into my mind. I thought about the whispers and giggles from other girls over the years, and I frowned.

“Is this something everyone knows? And I’m just terribly stupid for not figuring it out?”

“Not at all,” Vera shook her head. “Usually I guess girls have mothers or sisters to talk to, or else their husbands talk to them after they’re married. Or they might ask friends, like you asked me.”

“Is it…awful?” I asked hesitantly.

Vera blushed. “No. It’s not awful, not at all. Remember Rosalie, Royce loves you and he will want to make you happy. He’s not going to hurt you.”

“Well, thank you for telling me, even if it was terribly awkward!” I said with a half laugh. “I wish my mother had been as open and honest as you. I really can’t talk to her about anything at all.”

“What about Royce’s mother?” Vera asked, nibbling at her cake. “I don’t mean sex, but I was thinking about what you said before about being nervous about taking on a household.”

“I think she’ll give me advice whether I want it or not,” I sighed. “There are _standards_ , Rosalie,” I mimicked Eleanor’s refined tones. “You’re _aware_ of our family’s _position_ in the community and it’s part of your job to _maintain_ it.”

Vera giggled. “Well, at least she’ll help you. I wouldn’t know the first thing about managing a big house like that.”

“There won’t be that much for me to do,” I admitted. “They’ve already hired all the people that I’ll need. There’s going to be a housekeeper that lives in, and a man to do the driving and garden who’ll live out by the garage. Apart from that there will be women who come in to do the cleaning, and extra cooking when we have parties.”

I smiled at Vera, knowing my eyes were sparkling. I loved the idea of being a hostess and having dinner parties and cocktail parties and music evenings where I would be able to dress up and bask in the admiration. Royce had many friends and business acquaintances, and he was keen to start entertaining together in our own house.

“It sounds fun.” Vera’s voice was a little wistful.

“I’ll still come and visit,” I promised her, knowing that that was all that it would be. Vera and her husband Jim, a carpenter, would be completely out of place and feel very uncomfortable in a party with Royce’s wealthy and sophisticated friends. “And hopefully it won’t be too long before…”

“You have a baby?” Vera filled in the gap.

I blushed but nodded. “You know I’ve always wanted that. And Royce and his family would be very happy if I have a baby right away, especially if it’s a boy.”

 _She’s the wife you need, and you_ will _marry her and get a baby on her and give me a grandson, damn you…_

The words I had overheard at the charity ball flashed into my mind, but I pushed them firmly away. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but that Royce and I got married, and then we’d be happy together.

Henry woke then, and Vera got him out of his crib. The two of us played with him, putting him on his belly on the rug and trying to encourage him to crawl. We were having so much fun that it wasn’t until the front door banged and Jim came in that I realised that it was evening, and the sky outside was rapidly darkening.

“Jim, hello!” I said brightly, jumping to my feet and smoothing down my dress.

“Rosalie,” Jim nodded, and gave Vera sweet kiss on her cheek. “Hello my love.”

“Supper’s ready,” Vera said. “It’s beef and vegetable soup…Rosalie, would you like to stay? There’s plenty there.”

For a moment I hesitated. Mother would be _furious_ if I stayed out for supper without telling her first. _But I’m an adult_ , I thought defensively. _In just a week I’m going to be married and Mother won’t have any say at all over what I do._ “I’d love to stay,” I said, a little defiantly.

Supper turned out to be fun. It was nice to get to know Jim a little better - apart from going to some dances with him and Vera and when they were courting, I didn’t really know him very well. But he fed baby Henry with a tenderness that brought a lump to my throat, and told a few good jokes that made me laugh. Vera’s soup and bread pudding were plain but delicious, and I was glad I’d stayed.

“Oh dear, it’s rather late,” I said, a little startled when I eventually glanced at the clock. “Mother is going to be so cross with me! I really have to run.”

“Jim will walk you home,” Vera offered.

“No, no, don’t be silly…I’ll be fine,” I said, slipping into my coat and fastening the bright brass buttons.  “You stay home where it’s warm.”

“I’m not going to take no for an answer,” Jim said with a laugh. “Rosalie, it’s far too late and too dark for a lady to be walking alone. I don’t mind at all, and when I get back Vera will have the kettle boiled and a slice of cake waiting for me…if you two didn’t eat it all this afternoon!”

I laughed and hugged Vera tight. “Thank you for everything,” I whispered.

Jim shrugged into his worn coat with the darned patches on the elbows, and gallantly offered me his arm. I smiled at him, blew kisses to Vera and baby Henry, and then allowed him to walk me all the way home. Uneventfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – And here we REALLY diverge from canon! Instead of walking home alone, Rosalie accepts Jim’s offer to walk her home. Because of this she never met Royce and his friends that night, and was never assaulted, never left for dead, and never saved by Carlisle. So now we have AU!Rosalie about to get everything that canon!Rosalie wanted but that was taken from her…but maybe it’s not going to be quite like she imagined it would be.


	8. The Angel

“Don’t come in with those filthy boots on!”

Obediently I stopped on the threshold of the kitchen. “But I’ve already walked all the mud off in the conservatory, Miss Ellen,” I pointed out with a guilty smile.

“Oh you!” Miss Ellen shook her head. “Well, never mind that now. Take them off before you come into the kitchen, your porridge is ready.”

Willingly enough I kicked off my boots and went and sat at the scrubbed kitchen table. Miss Ellen, the housekeeper-cook-general boss of the house placed a bowl full of porridge in front of me, topped with melting cream and swirls of maple syrup. I’d never tasted maple syrup until I came to Rochester, and I could probably have drunk it by the bucketful.

I dug into my porridge. “Do you have anything for me to do today?” I asked through a mouthful.

“That wind last night brought down two trees at the big house and Lachlan’s asked that you go over and help clear them away. I might want you for some errands this afternoon.”

“Sure thing.” I concentrated on my porridge.

“Oh, and the clothes were delivered late yesterday afternoon!” Miss Ellen exclaimed. “Once you’ve finished eating you’ll try them on for me so we be sure that they don’t need adjustments. It’s about time you stopped going about looking like a vagrant.”

Miss Ellen had taken one look at me on the first morning I was in Rochester and shaken her head, before she marched straight into my room and pulled out my pitifully few clothes. “This absolutely _will not_ do!” she had declared. “You cannot work for the family looking like a hobo.”

I hadn’t taken any offence. My clothes hadn’t stood out at all at home, but in Rochester they were clearly far shabbier and more tattered than anything the people now surrounding me wore. “I’ll buy new ones when I’ve saved up the money,” I said amiably. “Won’t take more than a month or two.”

Miss Ellen sighed impatiently. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll get them right away, and take it out of your paycheques.”

“Not all of it,” I said flatly. “I’m making money to help out my Ma and Pa, not buy fancy clothes.”

We’d negotiated an agreement that I’d get the clothes I needed and she’d take it out of my pay over a longer period of time so that I’d still be able to send a good amount back home. The next day she’d taken me to a department store and bossed me into getting what she thought I needed, which seemed a crazy extravagant amount to me. She even took me to a tailor to get a fancy jacket made, so that I would be ‘appropriately’ dressed to be the chauffer.

But after all that she took me to a café and paid for me to have a coffee and a sandwich, so it wasn’t too bad. Miss Ellen was about the same age as my Ma, and women like that had always babied me. Maybe it was the dimples, I don’t know.

I finished my porridge and put my bowl in the sink, and then obligingly went into the pantry and changed into the new clothes. Being the fourth boy in my family I’d grown up wearing hand-me-downs, and I was very impressed with my showy new clothes. Even the chauffer jacket, which was a little tight across the shoulders and made me look like an idiot, was impressive.

“Very good,” Miss Ellen said critically. “Now, your old clothes can be worn in the garden for work, but nowhere else. Do what you can to keep the new ones clean and in good condition.”

“I will,” I said, going back into the pantry and slipping back into my old patched pants and faded shirt. When I went back to the kitchen Miss Ellen had the new clothes on hangers and she thrust the whole pile into my arms.

“Go and hang those in your room please, and then you can go over to the big house and help Lachlan with the trees. They may need you there the rest of the day, I don’t know.”

“Okay, I’ll see what’s happening.”

I gave her a grin and left, the kitchen, hearing her shout after me, “And write to your mother today! You promised her!”

I whistled as I walked the couple of streets to the big house, feeling cheerful. While it hadn’t been very long, I liked my job and felt like I’d landed on my feet. Sure, Rochester was like a whole different world to home, but I’d met some good people and so far the job had a lot of interesting variety.

I could hear the sound of the axe as I reached the big house, so I followed it until I found Lachlan chopping up a fallen tree in the side garden.

“Glad you’re here, boy” he said, wiping sweat off his brow. “Go get another axe and the saw from the shed.”

“The chainsaw?” I asked eagerly. This was something new to me and I was awed by how much it helped in cutting wood. I was also in danger of losing a limb every time I used it, but that was a minor worry compared to the fun of it.

“Yes, but hurry up about it. The Missus went mad this morning when she saw this mess.”

I jogged over to the shed. I’d never seen such a fuss as was being made over this wedding! When my sister Kitty got married it was a service in church and then everyone went next door to the hall for tea and sandwiches made by Ma and the girls. But this wedding was going to involve a church service and then a party here at the big house, where they’d hired extra tables and table services and a band and waiters and loads of decorations. Everything had to be perfect, and that included the garden.

Lachlan wasn’t a big talker, but he didn’t mind me jabbering on either, so the two of us worked well together. We used the chainsaw to get the bigger trunk in pieces, and then used axes to split it, wheeling it over to the woodpile behind the shed and stacking it there.

We took a break to have a cup of tea and a chunk of cake, thoughtfully provided by Mrs Maguire. I sat on one of the logs and blew on the hot tea as it cooled.

“What’s he like?” I asked curiously. “The one I’ll be working for? And her?” I’d met King Senior and Mrs King, but not Royce or his bride.

Lachlan hesitated, and then took a long sip of his tea. “You should probably make up your own mind about him,” he said at last.

“I’m going to,” I answered. “But I’d like to know what to expect.”

Lachlan shrugged. “He can be arrogant, and he’s used to getting his own way. At the same time he can be very generous, but…ah boy, I don’t know. Just wait and see how you get on.”

“What about her? The wife-to-be?”

“Oh, Rosalie Hale,” Lachlan frowned. “She’s pretty much what you’d think he’d choose. Prettiest girl in Rochester, and innocent as a lamb to go with it. But she holds her head high, and I’d think she could be as arrogant as he is, given the chance.”

“That doesn’t sound great,” I said doubtfully.

“It doesn’t matter in the end,” Lachlan said definitely. “Your job is to do what they tell you and keep your mouth shut about it, whatever it is that you see or hear. It isn’t your job to like them or not, boy.”

Thinking about what he’d said, I went back to chopping and hauling wood. I was still curious about my new boss, but I figured it wouldn’t be too long…the wedding of the century was only a few days away.

______________________________________________________________________

With an impatient sigh I shrugged my shoulders in the slightly too-tight jacket and pulled at my collar. “How much longer?”

“As long as it takes,” Lachlan answered, adding in irritable tones, “And for Christ’s sake boy, stop pulling at those clothes! Anyone’d think you’d never worn a shirt and tie before.”

I didn’t point out that while I _had_ worn a shirt and tie before, the shirt had never had such a stiff collar and certainly never been paired with a restricting jacket that made me look like a trained monkey.  There wasn’t any use saying anything about it though, since the wedding had finally come around and I was now waiting with Lachlan and the cars around the side of the church, ready to pick up the family and drive them to the big house for the party.

“Okay, ready to go?” Lachlan flicked his cigarette on the ground and smoothed his hair. “I’ll go first and get Mr Royce and Miss Rosalie, and you…”

“I get Mr and Mrs King,” I interrupted him. “And Charlie gets the Hales.” I had to hold back from rolling my eyes. Lachlan seemed more nervous about my first proper driving job than I was.

I wasn’t too worried. I’d got comfortable with driving on my trip away from home, and even just a week of driving around Rochester had made me confident with the city traffic.

Besides, from the church to the big house was a journey of about three blocks. I could have practically driven it with my eyes shut.

Driving up to the church I got out and held the door. This was the part of the job that I didn’t like, feeling subservient. I didn’t mind working, I’d always been a hard worker, but having to act so respectful when they’d never done anything to deserve it was a hard pill to swallow.

The guests all milling about in front of the church amazed me, what with the clothes and the hats and suits and jewels. I didn’t know much about fashion, but this didn’t look like any wedding I’d ever been to back home. For a moment I was so busy staring I almost forgot what I was about, before I came back to myself and hastily closed the car door.

“That went off well.”

I’d barely started the car before Mrs King broke the silence.

“I’m very pleased with it,” she went on thoughtfully. “No mistakes, and of course Rosalie looked a picture. She really is stunning, don’t you think?”

Mr King grunted. “She’s a pretty girl, but right now I care more about how fertile she is. We want a grandson out of her as soon as possible.”

“Well, I’m sure Royce Junior knows his business there,” Mrs King said dryly. “And really Royce, she’s not _livestock_.”

“I want a grandson,” he said implacably. “I didn’t build up this business empire only to have it fall apart when I die, and Royce isn’t any damned good. You know that. How much money did I have to spend to get him out of trouble when…”

“You said we wouldn’t talk of that.” Mrs King’s voice was icy.

“Well, I won’t then, but you know what happened. It can’t happen again. He’s married now, to the prettiest girl in the city no less, and we’ll see if she can keep him on the straight and narrow. If not, we’ll get our grandson and we’ll make sure he’s raised right and taught what his duty is, and to hell with Royce”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet,” Mrs King sighed. “A grandchild would be wonderful, and I _do_ hope that Royce settles down with Rosalie.”

We pulled into the circular driveway at the big house then, and the conversation came to an end. I couldn’t help but feel shocked what I’d just heard, but I remembered what Lachlan had said about keeping my mouth shut about anything I saw and heard, and I kept my face blank as I helped Mrs King out of the car.

I was even more curious by then to see this Rosalie that I’d be working for. So far all anyone had said about her was how beautiful she was, but I couldn’t help being sceptical. I looked for her as I slid back into the car, but all I saw was a flash of white silk at the top of the stairs.

Lachlan and Charlie and I parked the cars for a lot of guests who didn’t have their own drivers. I liked that a lot, getting to investigate all the different cars, and I took my time with it. Once all the cars were parked I walked into the kitchen, which was a complete madhouse. I was backing hastily out again when Mrs Maguire saw me and shoved a big, heavy box at me.

“They need more spirits and wine,” she told me, sounding almost frantic. “Take these in and give them to Daniels. Be as discreet as you can!”

It’s kind of hard to be discreet when you’re over six and a half feet tall, but I carried the box and gingerly entered the enormous hall where all the guests were gathered, talking and drinking and laughing. I was skirting the crowds and looking for Daniels, the King’s butler, when I finally caught sight of Rosalie Hale King. And that could have been a disaster as my grip slipped slightly on the box and my mouth dropped, because I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.

 _She looks like an angel_ , was my first stupid thought. She was standing by a window, gently backlit in a way that made it look like she was _shining_ , her veil making a halo around her head and trailing down her back in a way that suggested beautiful wings. Her dress had lace sleeves and whatever it was made of clung to her body, showing off all her curves to perfection. She turned her head and laughed as I stared, her angel face as perfect as the rest of her. All of it, all of _her_ , so perfectly beautiful…

“Emmett, you big lump, what are you doing? For heaven’s sake, get a move on!”

It was Daniels, scowling at me and making shooing motions with his hands that brought me back to earth.

“I’m…uh…” I said in confusion.

“Beverages…over there. Get it together!”

“Okay, right, I’m on it…” I took a firmer grip on the box and then continued on my way, relieved when I handed the box of glass bottles over to one of the waiting crew without breaking anything. As I turned away from them my gaze crossed the room to land unerringly on Rosalie’s face. As I stared at her in fascination she waved to someone and blew them a kiss, and it was like I felt my legs turn to jelly.

_Holy Mary, mother of God…help me._


	9. The Wedding and What Followed

“Rosie, you look absolutely _gorgeous!_ ” Kitty, wearing her best green dress, came over to me and clasped my hands and kissed me on the cheek. Anne and Lacy followed suit.

“Your dress is amazing!” Anne touched the lace on my sleeve and tugged a crease out of my veil.

“The service was beautiful, and Royce looks so handsome.” Lacy glanced across the room at Royce, who was shaking hands with some of his father’s associates.

I couldn’t stop smiling. The wedding service _had_ been beautiful, and my silk gown with the lace sleeves and the veil with its delicate embroidery looked glorious. I had never felt more beautiful, and I knew everyone watching would have seen it.

I would have loved to stay and gossip with my friends about all the guests, and their clothes and hairstyles, but Mother came and pulled me away. I had to greet and thank everyone who had come, and accept their compliments and congratulations. I loved all the attention, but I was getting tired and my feet were aching in my new wedding shoes when Royce came up behind me and put his arms around me.

“Hello, my beautiful wife,” he murmured into my ear, following it up with a kiss on my neck.

I giggled and turned to face him. “Hello husband,” I said, a little shyly, before I burst out laughing. “I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

Royce looked as smug the cat who’d got the cream. “Lucky me.” He kissed me again, this time on the mouth.

I let him for a moment, and then put my hands flat on his chest and pushed him away. “Not in front of all the guests.”

“Then let’s tell them all to leave,” Royce murmured, kissing me again and running a hand slowly down my back.

I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment as I saw the surreptitious glances and sly smiles of some of the guests nearby. “Wait until later,” I said, feeling the heat in my face deepen. “Once everyone is gone, and we’re alone…”

Royce’s eyes glittered and I ducked my head, mortified at having been so bold. Royce put a hand under my chin and lifted my face until he could give me a kiss on the forehead. “Oh, I’m looking forward to that,” he promised. “ _Very_ much looking forward to that! But I’ll behave myself until then Princess…let’s go and lead the way into dinner.”

Sitting at the head table with Royce on one side of me and his father on the other I felt almost overwhelmed with the heady excitement of the day. I also felt half drunk on the glasses of champagne I had swallowed throughout the toasts, especially since I’d barely eaten anything. My nerves over the night looming ahead of me seemed very far away. After all, what could possible go wrong on this most perfect of days?

Royce was as relaxed and playful as I’d ever seen him. He laughed as he fed me strawberries and champagne, and when it was time for our first dance as husband and wife he whirled me around the floor with consummate skill. Everyone was watching, even some of the waiting staff had paused in what they were doing to stare, and I loved it. I laughed and stood on my tiptoes to kiss Royce, and he kissed me back as other people began moving out on to the dance floor too.

_This is it. I have almost everything I ever wanted, and it’s as perfect as I always planned._

My father came and took me from Royce’s arms, and I smiled at him affectionately as we danced much more slowly. “Thank you for my wedding Daddy.”

He kissed my forehead. “Anything for my Princess… _everything_ for my Princess!” He looked around at the ornate King hall and shook his head. “You’re a lucky girl Rosalie. All of this is what your mother and I wanted for you, and now it’s yours. “

“I know, Daddy.” I rested my head against his shoulder for a moment, as though I were his little girl again. “I’m grateful for all you and Mother did to make it possible.”

“You deserve it.” Father hugged me. “You make sure you work at it though, Princess! You be a good girl and a good wife.”

“I intend to be,” I said, my voice determined. “I know what you all expect of me, and I won’t let you down. I promise.”

When it was time, Mother took me up to the spare bedroom where my things were, and helped me take off the beautiful wedding gown so I could dress in my going away clothes. As nice as my red skirt and jacket were, I looked wistfully at my wedding dress as it was hung in the closet. It was so beautiful, I wished I could wear it every day.

“Get dressed Rosalie, they’ll be wondering what you’re doing!”

Realising I was just sitting on the bed in my underwear, daydreaming, I shook myself and began dressing. Mother took the veil and folded it back into the box, layers of tissue paper between each delicate layer of lace.

“You really did look beautiful today, darling,” Mother said, coming over to me and buttoning my jacket and twitching my clothes into place. “I do hope you’ll be very happy.”

“I will be.” I said confidently. I had no doubt in that moment that it was true. Royce and I would be one of the most popular and celebrated couples in the city society, rich and privileged, and I would be happy.  “It’s going to be wonderful.”

“I’ve got your handbag here,” Mother fussed, fetching it from the dresser. “I’ve put in your lipstick and a handkerchief and your coin purse. Your suitcases are already in the car and they have everything you need for tonight, and then for your honeymoon in New York. Now…”

“Mother!” I interrupted in exasperation. “I’ll be fine! Thank you for my bag. It really is time for me to go.”

Quite out of character, Mother wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek. “I really am happy for you. Now, be a good girl and…” She gave a shaky laugh. “I suppose it’s not my place to say that anymore. You’re a wife now, and it will be Royce that you answer to in future.”

  I hugged her back. “I’ll make you proud of me Mother, I promise I will.”

I gave her a final kiss on the cheek and then ran lightly down the stairs to the sound of clapping and people’s well-wishes. At the bottom of the stairs Royce waited, his face split wide in a grin as he took me by my waist and swung me down the last steps. “Let’s go Princess.”

Under a shower of rice we dashed for the limo, and I collapsed into it laughing as the driver closed the door behind us. Royce was laughing too, and he wasted no time in pulling me over to sit on his lap, touching me with a whole new kind of assurance.

“I’m glad that’s over!” he exclaimed.

I pouted. “But it was our wedding! It was wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful,” Royce murmured against my lips. “And if a wedding means a wedding night, I’ll get married every day.” He kissed me deeply.

My heart pounded. Partly because of what he was doing, partly because of what he was _going_ to do, and partly because of the period of time between one and the other, which I had no idea how to navigate!

 For a moment I surrendered to the kissing, which was something I had always liked. His lips and tongue, his hands holding my face to his...it all felt different now that we were finally married. But then Royce’s hands began wandering, and we were back to the same argument.

“Not here!” I hissed, arching my head back. I grabbed his wrist and tried ineffectually to stop him from undoing my buttons. “Not with the driver right there Royce!”

I glanced ahead of me. It wasn’t Lachlan, the Kings’ usual driver there, but someone taller, and with curly dark hair. My face burned with humiliation as Royce managed to undo enough buttons to pull my blouse open. The driver couldn’t see me, but he would know what was going on... “Royce, please!”

“I like hearing you say please,” he murmured, kissing the top of my breasts.

I forcefully shoved his head away and before he react I was sitting against the far door of the car, rapidly buttoning my clothes and putting myself back together. “You’ve waited this long, please just wait a little longer until we’re alone.”

Much to my relief Royce laughed, and stretched languidly. “Very well then Princess. I’ll wait til we get to the hotel. But don’t forget you’re mine now!”

I smiled back at him. Right then I wanted to be his, I wanted his name and his babies and, above all else, his love. I wanted it all, and I believed I had it.

We spent our first night at a hotel in Rochester. It was far more opulent than any I’d stayed in before, but I simply held my head high and tried to not to look too impressed as the driver opened the door and then the bellboys took in the luggage.  Royce had a quick word with our driver and then took my arm and escorted me to the elevator and then upstairs to our penthouse suite.

The drapes were still open and I went and stood for a moment, silently looking across all the city lights of Rochester. It was so pretty, and I wondered how it compared to the lights of New York City, which was where Royce and I were spending the next two weeks.

“A little bird told me that your friends gave you a present for tonight,” Royce said, his voice light and amused. “I’m going to get myself a drink from the bar, but why don’t you go into the bedroom and get yourself ready?”

Blushing dark red, I obeyed. The nightgown my friends had given me made my mouth drop once I put it on and realised how sheer it really was, but once I was looking at myself in the full length mirror I paused. Slightly shocking it might be, but it was also incredibly flattering. The way it draped over my curves was beautiful, and it was with a heightened sense of confidence that I sat down at the dresser and began to unpin and brush out my hair.

Royce was stark naked when he entered the bedroom, and I had to fight back an almost hysterical desire to giggle. He wasn’t laughing though. Royce’s eyes glittered as he looked at me, and his face was resolved as he took my hand and bore me onto the bed.

I had thought I had known what to expect. I thought that we would take our time, and that it would be gentle and I would feel loved, but the reality of it was very different. Royce was intent, his tone short when he told me what he wanted me to do. I was awkward and unsure, and Royce’s terse orders and heavy hands did nothing to comfort me. Once it was done I lay quietly in bed, fighting back tears and wondering, as I shifted my body and winced, if I was bleeding.

“Royce?” I said tentatively into the darkness, when I was sure I wouldn’t cry.

“Mmm?” Royce answered drowsily.

“Was that…what you thought it would be like? You and me?”

Royce laughed. “It was rather like I imagined, yes.”

I was glad it was dark as I asked the next question. “And you like it?”

“I like it a lot,” he replied lasciviously, his hand groping across the bed and finding my naked flesh.

I cursed myself for bringing the subject up as Royce pushed my hands away and began roughly fondling my breasts.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I said cautiously. “But…it hurt me.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Royce said dismissively, and I bit my lip hard to stop myself from making any noise as he kept one hand on my breasts and thrust the other one between my legs.

So that’s the way it was. _You’ll get used to it._

_____________________________________________________________

Our honeymoon really began the following day, when we caught the train to New York. We stayed at the Plaza and spent the two weeks going to restaurants and clubs, the theatre and cinema, seeing the sights and shopping. I loved the whirlwind of activity, and Royce laughed at my enthusiasm and indulged me shamelessly. I had only to look at some jewellery or mention something I liked and he would buy it for me. I began to wonder how much extra luggage I would have to buy to transport everything back home. There were long lazy mornings when I sat in my wrap and ate breakfast by the window, looking out at the view, and there were late nights after the theatre, when I wore silk and sparkles and had strawberries and champagne at midnight. It was a wonderful time, with only one thing that marred it.

That was, of course, the sex. Every night I was barely in bed before Royce was right there, telling me what he wanted. How reluctant I was, how sore I was from the last time, didn’t seem to matter when it came to his desires and needs.

I thought about it a lot. At first with mild concern, later with increasing despair as I began to wonder if I ever _would_ just “get used to it”, or if it would continue to hurt. I didn’t talk to Royce about it. I was embarrassed, and if anything would make him belligerent or aggressive it was something I said that he took as criticism. But I thought about the euphemisms I’d heard throughout my life, and wished that what Royce and I did could be described that way. “Being intimate with someone” was the way my friends had always coyly referred to it, even if I hadn’t quite realised the extent of what they meant at the time. “Making love” was what Vera had said, but to use that to describe what happened between Royce and I was laughable.

 _Fucking._ Royce taught me that one. “I’m going to fuck you,” he would say, and my belly would curl with a mix of anticipation and dread, because when he said that I knew he was going to be rough.

But the next morning there might be one of the distinctive robin’s egg blue boxes from Tiffany on my breakfast plate and tickets to a ballet matinee delivered by courier. The housekeepers would change the bloodstained sheet like it had never happened in the first place, and Royce would laugh and kiss me as he helped fasten the new double string of pearls around my neck…and maybe this was just what marriage was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – That definitely isn’t just what marriage is. Royce and Rosalie’s relationship is pretty textbook abusive, and all the diamonds and pearls in the world can’t change something so fundamentally wrong.   
> Rosalie doesn’t want to see it though. She has what she’s always wanted, and she’s determined to maintain her belief that it’s perfect. She’ll ignore or downplay any warning sign that maybe things aren’t living up to her fantasy.  
> And as you saw, Emmett didn’t make nearly the impression on Rosalie as she made on him! This romance is definitely going to be a bit of a slow burn, but they will get there in the end.  
> Thank you to everyone reading, and those reviewing. I can’t respond directly to anons, but I appreciate everyone who takes the time to leave me a note!


	10. They Return

The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky outside when I woke. I twisted sideways so that my legs were hanging off the edge of the bed and I stretched with a groan. It was all well and good to have an actual bed to myself, but not being able to straighten up in it sometimes made me wish for the thin pallet bed I’d slept on since I was big enough to leave the crib.

I reached across and grabbed one of the letters from the chair beside my bed. They’d come for me from home, and I started each day reading a different one.

_Dear Emmett, I miss you and Hannah made cookies and Mama baked a pie it was good and it had apples and I miss you and Stephen found a frog and Will got the strap in school because he was bad and Maggie pulls my hair when she does braids so I wish you would come back and make my braids because I miss you and I finished knitting a whole scarf by myself and in school I play with Lucy and she’s my friend but I still miss you is your work fun and I love you. From Elizabeth._

Elizabeth, my favourite one. The letter had no punctuation and every second word was spelled wrong, but it must have taken her days to scrawl it out in her laborious little girl handwriting and I cherished it. I was smiling when I put the letter down and stood up to dress.

Miss Ellen seemed more anxious than usual when I went to the kitchen for breakfast. It was part of my pay that I’d get all my food, and Miss Ellen was a good cook and gave out generous serves.

“Thank you Miss Ellen,” I said appreciatively as she placed a plate of bacon, eggs and toast in front of me.

“Hurry up and eat it and then you can get out,” she sniffed. “You know that Mr and Mrs King are coming home today and I want the house to be perfect.”

I scowled. In the two weeks since the wedding I’d spent a couple of days hauling boxes and crates around as all of Mr Royce and Miss Rosalie’s things were moved into the house, along with a mountain of wedding gifts. It had been a good opportunity to explore the house, which astounded me with its excessive size and the expense of everything in it. I couldn’t imagine a young couple starting out life in this kind of luxury. What would you look forward to and work towards when you already had it all?

“You remember the time you need to be at the train station?”

“Yes, I remember.” I rolled my eyes, even as I kept gulping down my breakfast. “After lunch, and you want me to spend the morning cleaning the car. Which isn’t dirty.”

Miss Ellen stopped and laughed. “Oh Emmett, you’re a lamb. You know I just want it all to be perfect for the newlyweds!”

I didn’t answer that. The idea of collecting the two of them had my stomach tied up in knots. I wanted to see Rosalie again, to see if the angel of my thoughts actually existed, but I almost frightened to.

 _Because even if she is the perfect angel you remember, she’s someone else’s wife._ I scowled even more when I thought about that. Not just that she was married, but that her husband was my boss, and that he seemed like an ass. When I was driving them to the hotel on their wedding night I had been sorely tempted to hit him upside the head when I heard the genuine distress in Rosalie’s voice as he was pawing at her. No girl should have to put up with that if she didn’t want it, even if he _was_ her husband.

There wasn’t anything I could do about it though, so I went out and raked the lawns and spent the rest of the morning cleaning and polishing the car. It seemed silly to me, but it was important to Miss Ellen and she’d worked for people like this before. She knew what the proper thing to do was, and as my inexperience sat uncomfortably for me I was glad for her advice.

I reached the train station in good time, parking the car and then standing beside it, leaning casually on the hood. I watched the train pull in, and then I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the alighting passengers, waiting for a glimpse of blonde hair.

I missed her getting off the train though. Instead I saw her coming towards me, her hand in Royce’s arm, while the porter came behind them with a trolley full of luggage.

She was as beautiful as I remembered. Even without the otherworldliness of her wedding gown she stood out in the crowd, and mine were not the only eyes watching her as she made her way towards the car.

I remembered what I was there for and jumped to hold the door open for her, and for the first time Rosalie looked at me. Her eyes were so dark blue they looked almost violet, and her skin was like cream with a slight blush of pink on her cheeks. She smiled at me briefly, and then slid into the car.

“McCarty isn’t it?”

I turned hastily back to Royce. “Yes sir.”

“Everything all right at home?”

“Yes sir. Everything is set up for you and…Miss Rosalie,” I answered.  “We’ve moved all your things in while you were gone.”

“Mrs King,” Royce corrected me without smiling, and for a moment I didn’t know what he meant. Then I realised I’d called her Miss Rosalie, and I winced.

“Sorry sir, I didn’t think. No offence intended.”

“Very well. We’ll go straight home please McCarty.”

I helped the porter load the bags, feeling irritated. I’d never minded so much being told when I’d made a mistake or done some boneheaded thing, but what a stupid thing to be corrected over! Back home, calling her Miss Rosalie would have been fine and respectful and I didn’t know why he didn’t like it here. Besides, seeing her up close I had realised how young she was. Royce was in his late twenties, but Rosalie was probably younger than I was, and calling her Mrs King or Ma’am seemed kind of ridiculous.

 _But it’s not up to you to question it,_ I reminded myself with a quiet sigh. _Just do your job and ignore the rest of it._

“Ordinary life again tomorrow,” Royce sighed, taking Rosalie’s hand and kissing her knuckles.

“Our honeymoon was lovely, but being home will be nice too,” Rosalie said. “Getting to see friends…we’ll have to arrange a dinner party.”

“Oh, my little socialite,” Royce teased. “It’s all right for you! I have to go to work, and the old man says that now I’m married I have to become a respectable businessman and work regular hours. Such a bore!”

“I shall have to get used to running a house,” Rosalie said, and I detected a slight note of apprehension.

“Nothing to it,” Royce said cheerfully. “There’s a housekeeper and cleaners and McCarty here to do all the dirty work….all you have to do, my princess, is do some shopping and keep yourself looking beautiful for me to come home to.” He leaned over to her and nuzzled at her neck, and I did what I could to stop listening.

When we had pulled up in the driveway I opened the door for Rosalie again. I would have offered her my hand, but she was as agile as a cat as she sprang out herself.

But she looked at me and smiled as she said, “Thank you. Is it…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Emmett,” I muttered. “I mean, McCarty, I mean…Emmett McCarty ma’am.”

Her eyes were sparkling with amusement, but she spoke gravely as she said, “Nice to meet you McCarty, and thank you.”

Royce called her and she hurried over to him, slipping her hand into his and looking up at the house with a smile. “It’s amazing to think that it’s really ours!”

Royce laughed. “You know it’s only the best for my Princess.” Suddenly he swooped down and scooped her up in his arms as she shrieked, and with a loud laugh he carried her over the threshold, where Miss Ellen was waiting to greet them.

I began unloading the baggage from the car. I felt unsettled. Not just because of the way Rosalie made my heart pound and legs feel weak. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but I knew enough to realise that beauty was only skin deep and I didn’t know her. I doubted my infatuation would last. But something about Royce made me feel deeply uncomfortable. Instinctively, I knew that he was dangerous.

“Emmett, take up the bags please,” Miss Ellen called to me. “If you put them in the bedroom I’ll go up in a minute and do the unpacking.”

“I’m on my way,” I answered, taking two cases in each hand and carrying them easily up the sweeping staircase. The master bedroom was at the top of the stairs and as I went in I was amazed all over again at the size of it. My whole _house_ would probably fit in just this room. I wished I could show my Ma where I worked. She would love to see all the artworks and furniture and fancy stuff. My sister Maggie, who probably hated being poor more than any of the rest of us, would die to spend an hour in the walk in closet.

I was silent as I put the bags down by the bed. Royce was at the window looking out and he ignored me, but Rosalie was investigating the room and where all her things had been placed and she looked up briefly and gave me a vague smile and a thank you. I nodded to her and went back downstairs to fetch the other bags.

I didn’t take these ones into the room though. I could see part of the bed from the open door, and Royce had her down on it, skirt caught up around her hips so that I could see her legs from the tips of her stocking clad toes right up over her garters to the lace edges of her panties. For a moment I just stared, transfixed.

Rosalie was laughing, but there was an edge of desperation in her voice as she said, “Royce! Stop! We can’t…he’ll be back with the bags any minute!”

“He’ll just stay the hell out of the way,” Royce answered, unperturbed. “This is my house and you’re my wife and I’m damn well going to fuck you any time and in any place I want to!”

I didn’t wait to hear more. I placed the bags silently on the carpet outside the door and pretty much ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Miss Ellen looked surprised as I burst through the door, and then irritated as I swiped a piece of cake off her cutting board.

“Oh honestly Emmett! This is for the Kings’ afternoon tea!”

“Well, they won’t be wanting it for a bit,” I said, stuffing my piece into my mouth. “You just might want to wait until they come _out_ before you go up to unpack or whatever.”

Miss Ellen chuckled. “I suppose that’s part of working for newlyweds!”

______________________________________________________

“McCarty,” Royce said as I drove him to his office the following morning. “I want to make sure you’re going to take care of Mrs King today. Take her wherever she wants to go.”

“Okay sir,” I answered, at the same time thinking _Isn’t that my job? To drive?_

“Stay with her,” Royce clarified. “I don’t want her going out on her own, so wherever she’s going I want you to accompany her, whether she’s driving or not.”

“Okay sir,” I said again.

“Good man.” Royce sighed, sound bored. “God, working with my father…you’re lucky you don’t have to, McCarty.”

I didn’t say anything. I had worked with my Pa plenty of times, both at home and at the Allison’s farm, and I _liked_ it. I had to admit though, as I pulled up outside the imposing stone building that housed the King business empire, that I might not want to work _there._

Rosalie spent the morning investigating her new house, according to Miss Ellen. After making sure I wouldn’t be needed, I put on my old clothes and worked in the garden until lunch. That was one thing I didn’t like about my job- all the changing of clothes! Gardening clothes, regular clothes, driving clothes…I was used to just putting on one thing and wearing it until washday.

I liked the gardening work though. It wasn’t too hard, but it was physical work outside and that was what I preferred. I’d already enlarged the vegetable garden and started thinking about plans for what I might want to do in the rest of the garden.

After lunch Rosalie wanted to go and visit her mother, so I had a quick scrub and put my driving clothes back on. I hoped she wouldn’t look too closely at my hands though- my fingernails weren’t all that clean.

Unlike Royce, Rosalie sat in the front, although she didn’t speak. When we were about halfway there she said suddenly, “I suppose I should have sat in the back.”

“That’s where Mr King sat,” I said, adding cautiously, “But if you like to sit up front, I don’t mind.”

“I like to see where I’m going,” she answered.

Forgetting that she was my employer and I was the employee, I grinned at her. “Me too.”

When I pulled up in front of her parents’ house, Rosalie sat for a minute and I got the clear impression that she wasn’t wild about the idea of visiting her mother. Fortunately, just before I was about to open my big mouth and likely get in trouble, Rosalie stepped out of the car, looking at me a little uncertainly.

“What do you do now?”

I looked at her in surprise. “Just wait.”

Rosalie frowned. “You can go into the kitchen and have a cup of tea if you like. Joanna will give you one.”

I smiled at her. “Honestly, I’m fine. You just go enjoy your visit, and I’ll be here to take you home when you’re done.”

“Well, thank you McCarty,” she said primly, and turned and marched off to the front door.

In all honesty, waiting was the hardest part of my job. After I left school I couldn’t ever remember having time where I just had to sit down and do nothing. With not working I’d had plenty of time to fill in, but at home there was _always_ something to be done, even if that was only playing football with the little boys or reading to Elizabeth. Just having to sit in the car and think was a new and unpleasant thing for me.  I’d taken to stashing an old newspaper under the seat; I wasn’t a very good reader but it filled in the time and I’d realised with surprise that with all the forced practising I’d likely improve. As well as that I’d stashed a small drawstring bag with little bits of wood in it, so that I could use my pocket knife and whittle a bit too. My grandad had been a wonder at making little animals, and he’d taught me to be pretty good at it too.

I was making a little horse. I thought I’d send it to Elizabeth once I was done, and I was determined to make it perfect. I’d already started it over twice, but it was looking good this time and I frowned in concentration as I started carving in the lines of the mane, remembering what Star looked like cantering around the paddock with mane and tail flying.

“What are you doing?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. The knife slipped off the wood and the point dug into my thumb. “Shit! Damnit…I mean, sorry ma’am.” I clambered to my feet.

Rosalie looked at the blood dripping out of my thumb and reached for it. “Let me see.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Mortified I sucked at my thumb, but the minute I took it out of my mouth the blood welled up again.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Rosalie said bluntly. “You’ve hurt yourself. Let me fix it.” Taking out her handkerchief she peered at my thumb and then wrapped the linen around it, tying it tightly. “That should do it.”

“Thank you ma’am,” I said, a little awkwardly. To have her so close, her warm hands touching mine, almost took my breath away. “I’m fine though ma’am, truly…let me take you home.”

“Of course. Thank you, McCarty.”


	11. Marriage

After saying goodbye to Mother I closed the door behind me with a sigh. During the visit I had tried to raise the subject of Royce and some of the things he had done during the honeymoon, but Mother had adroitly changed the subject and I realised that she didn’t want to know. Whatever troubles I might have in my marriage, Mother was not going to be the one to help me.

McCarty was sitting sideways in the driver’s seat of the car, his long legs outside as he fiddled with something in his hands. My footsteps must have been almost silent, for when I was almost up to him and asked him what he was doing he jumped, narrowly missing bashing his head against the roof of the car.

“Shit! Damnit…I mean, sorry ma’am.” He rose to his feet looking embarrassed, and I tried not to smile.

I was tall for a girl, but he still towered over me and had to be at least twice as broad. For the first time I really looked at him, and I liked what I saw. He had a mop of dark curly hair and eyes that were as blue as the sky. His face was honest, and his full lipped smile gentle, and for a moment I thought that even though he was my driver, maybe he could be my friend too.

I dropped my eyes and noticed the blood dripping from his thumb. He had a knife and a small, rough carved wooden horse in one hand, and I surmised that he must have caught himself with the knife when I surprised him. I reached for it. “Let me see.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Looking terribly embarrassed he sucked at his thumb for a minute, but when he took it out of his mouth the blood immediately welled up.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ve hurt yourself. Let me fix it.” For a minute I was ashamed of my very unladylike words, but as I pulled out my handkerchief he held his hand towards me. I curved my fingers around his large hand and examined the cut on his hand. It was deep but small, and I wrapped my handkerchief around it and tied it tightly. “That should do it.”

“Thank you ma’am,” McCarty murmured, hunching his shoulders a little awkwardly. “I’m fine though ma’am, truly…let me take you home.”

For a second I looked at him, at the blue eyes and soft lips and felt an absurd desire to touch him. Feeling an immediate stab of guilt I stepped hastily away and then ducked into the car. “Of course. Thank you, McCarty.”

___________________________________________________________

Royce came home from his first day at the office in a bad mood. I had been in our room, styling my hair, and by the time I realised he was home and ran downstairs, he was in the sitting room.

“Where the hell were you?” He glared at me as he poured himself a Scotch.

“I was upstairs,” I replied, nettled by his tone.

“Well, it would be nice if you came down and greeted me and got me a drink when I get home,” Royce snarled.

I bit my lip to hold back an angry retort. That would help nothing. Instead I went across to him and stroked a hand across his chest, standing up on tiptoes to press my lips against his.  “I didn’t hear the car,” I said apologetically.

Royce pulled me against him and kissed me hard. “I forgive you. I’m just cranky because going to work in the office is such a hideous bore and Father is insistent that I go in every day. Apparently I need to be _responsible_ now that I’m a married man.” He rolled his eyes and I giggled.

“You don’t know _how_ to be responsible!”

Royce’s eyes gleamed as he laughed, and I was glad he had forgotten his annoyance. “Oh, I know how! I just choose to have fun instead!”

“Let’s have some fun,” I said, anxious to have a pleasant evening. “Let’s put on the record player and we can dance.”

“Okay Princess,” Royce laughed, “Whatever you want.”

But things were not always whatever I wanted. As the first weeks of my marriage turned into a month, and then two, I struggled to adjust to what was required of me.

Some parts of my marriage were easy. The house practically ran itself; Miss Ellen, our housekeeper, was so brisk and efficient that there was very little for me to do there. We entertained frequently, which I loved. I loved having friends around, and getting dressed up, and going out dancing afterwards, I loved the admiring and envious looks of the other girls, and the sly looks of desire from the men. I loved having the money for the best clothes and shoes. Royce even bought me three fur coats, a mink, a red fox, and a white angora rabbit fur that looked spectacular with my golden hair and make everyone stare.

Some parts of my marriage were difficult. Mother had always kept me busy, but left to my own devices I sometimes struggled to know what to do to fill in the day. I spent a lot of time shopping and, although I loved all the beautiful things I bought, eventually even shopping with a limitless amount of money loses a little of its lustre. I saw my friends as often as I could, but they didn’t move in the same social circle that Royce had pulled me into and we gradually had less and less in common. Vera remained a steady friend, but baby Henry was unlucky enough to suffer a bad case of measles, and Vera insisted I stay away in case I should catch it. Aware that I could be pregnant at any time, I obeyed her order, but I missed her and there were some lonely days.

And some parts of my marriage were terrible.

___________________________________________________

“We’re going home.”

Royce grabbed my arm and I looked up in surprise. We were out at a club and I had been dancing with some of the other girls that his friends had brought along. Some of them I knew as they’d been out with us before, others were new. I was the only wife, which I sometimes thought was peculiar, but most of the girls were bright and friendly and eager to have fun.

“But it’s still early,” I pouted.

Royce didn’t smile. “I don’t care. Get your coat.”

Annoyed at being treated like a child, I still worked my way across the room and collected my coat from the coatroom. Before I could even put it on Royce had seized my arm again, his fingers digging hard into my flesh, and was almost dragging me outside.

“Royce!” I jerked backwards, but pulling against his grip only hurt more and I grabbed at his fingers. “Stop it!”

“Just get in the fucking car,” he growled, looking around for McCarty.

The car drew up and McCarty came and opened the door, his face expressionless. Embarrassed to be seen quarrelling with my husband, I didn’t say a word as Royce shoved me into the car and slammed himself in beside me.

“Jesus Rosalie! Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What?” I squirmed along the seat so I was further away from him.

“Dancing like that, making everyone look at you…” Royce’s voice was slurred, and I wondered how much he’d had to drink.

“It’s a club,” I snapped. “People go there to dance. What else would you have me do?”

“Not go showing it all off like a whore?” Royce muttered.

In the front seat McCarty’s shoulders stiffened.

“Let’s talk about this at home,” I said hastily. Royce’s eyes on me remained dark and unfriendly as he fell into a brooding silence, but I was glad that at least he didn’t say anything else. McCarty was good natured and friendly, but I suspected he could be quite protective and I did not want to see him go up against Royce because he thought he was out of line.

When we got home Royce didn’t wait for me, instead storming up to the house and slamming the door behind him. For a moment I sat in the car, dreading what might come next.

“Miss Rosalie?”

I looked up in surprise. It was McCarty, holding out his hand and looking concerned. All I could of was that it was the first time I’d ever heard him say my name, and I loved the way it sounded on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said quietly. “That was a little…” His voice trailed away, and I realised how awkward his position was.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound unconcerned. “He’s just had a little too much to drink, that’s all. He’ll sleep it off and be no worse off in the morning.”

“Hmm.” McCarty looked unconvinced. “Well, if you need me you know where I am.” Suddenly he blushed, and ran a hand through his curls. “I’m sorry if I overstepped ma’am. I just wouldn’t want to see you upset, that’s all.”

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. Somehow, in the middle of my messy marriage, I’d found a friend in this slow talking southern man. “Thank you,” I said quietly, and then I left him and went inside.  

I was relieved to see that Royce had gone upstairs to our bedroom. I took off my shoes by the front door and padded silently through the kitchen, where I slowly drank a glass of water, hoping if I gave him a little time Royce would just pass out.

Instead I heard him shouting for me, and not wanting to wake Miss Ellen and get the help involved, I went quickly up the stairs. In the bedroom Royce was sprawled in a chair, half undressed and with at least four fingers of whisky still in the glass in his hand.

He took another swallow and glared at me. “Are you avoiding me now? You’d better not be.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” I said softly, trying to placate him. “I was just getting some water. You should have some too…do you want me to pour you a glass?”

“No,” Royce said rudely. “And don’t pretend you’re all sweet and innocent now, not after what you’ve been doing tonight.”

“Fine!” I snapped, no longer willing to even try to coax him out of his mood. “But I wasn’t doing _anything_ tonight.”

“That’s a load of shit Rosalie, and you know it! Wearing some slut dress and dancing like…”

“You bought me this dress!” I shouted furiously. “If I was dressed like a slut it was because _you_ wanted me to be!”

“Take it off,” Royce said, his voice deadly quiet now.

“No. I won’t.”

“I said to take it off!” Royce lunged at me, grabbing the neckline of the dress and tearing it straight down the front.

I stared at him in shock. “You ruined my dress!”

“Good.” Royce went back to his glass, tossing back the remaining whisky in one gulp. “You don’t need it anyway. Get the rest of it off.”

“Go to hell.” I turned my back on him and went to the dresser for a nightgown, furious at Royce for his behaviour. We weren’t always very nice to each other, but he’d never called me a whore before, and he’d certainly never done anything like ruin my clothes.

“If I’m going to hell I’m taking you with me bitch.” Royce spoke from right behind me and I jumped, but he wrapped his hands around my upper arms and shoved me with all his strength. I was flung onto the bed and the breath knocked out of me, but even so I tried to scramble away, too late. Royce grabbed my ankle and twisted it, and I gave in to the inevitable.

__________________________________________________

“Rosalie, wake up.”

“Mmmm,” I mumbled, rolling over.

“Come on honey, I’ve got some breakfast for you.”

I opened my eyes and saw Royce, already up and dressed, smiling down at me. He hadn’t put oil in his hair yet, and it flopped down over his eyes as he grinned endearingly. “Good morning.”

I sat up. “I want my robe.”

Royce fetched it without a murmur, and I wrapped it around myself as I settled the pillows more comfortably behind me. I stared at him, my face stony.

“Aww honey, don’t be mad.” Royce put the breakfast tray down over my legs and sat on the edge of the bed.

“After last night?” I scowled.

Royce held up his hands in surrender. “I know, I was an ass…but I was really drunk, that’s all. And McCarty got us home all right, so no harm done.”

I froze, staring at him suspiciously. Was it possible that he _didn’t_ remember? That everything that had happened in this room last night was just wiped from his memory.

“You don’t remember anything?” I said slowly.

Royce blinked at me innocently. “I remember mouthing off to you in the car, and I’m so sorry about that. But I don’t remember anything much at all after that.” He brushed some tangled hair off my face. “Why? Did something happen?”

I paused. _Something DID happen…but I don’t want it to be true. No one treats me like that. Especially not my husband. If he doesn’t remember, and I don’t think about it, then no one will ever know._

“No,” I said at last, taking a tiny sip of the freshly squeezed juice. “Nothing happened.”

“I’m really sorry I was such an ass.” Royce went down on to his knees at the side of the bed and looked at me imploringly. “I know I said some things that were not so nice…but you just make me so mad sometimes! I love you, and I want you all to myself and I get so jealous when you’re out there and all the fellows are looking. You’re mine.”

“I am yours,” I agreed, although the rebellious part of me nearly choked on the words. _I don’t belong to anyone but myself!_ “I don’t want anyone else, truly I don’t. You must know that! I can’t help it if people look…it doesn’t mean anything.”

People had been looking all my life. I couldn’t imagine a world where eyes of desire, of envy and longing, didn’t follow me as I walked down the street. For good or ill, being beautiful had shaped my whole sense of self. But even though people looked, and even though I liked that approbation, it would never impact my commitment to Royce and our marriage.

Royce kissed me tenderly. “This is really good, you and I, isn’t it?” he whispered against my lips.

I kissed him back so that I didn’t have to answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – okay, another horrible chapter for Rosalie, I’m sorry! All I can say is that she will get out of this abusive relationship.  
> It’s clear by this point that Royce is not exactly the handsome prince Rosalie thought she was getting and this is not exactly the fairytale that she dreamed of. He’s says some cruel things, he’s rude and careless with her feelings, even though he’s not actually hitting her he can be very rough, and he’s using sex as a weapon to hurt and control her with. In other words- classic abusive husband.  
> As for why Rosalie doesn’t do anything about it, there are a few things going on with her. Firstly, she’s pretty deep in denial. She WANTS the fairytale, she wants this marriage to be what it looks like from the outside, and she’s used to getting what she wants. Rosalie is also really naïve about adult relationships, Royce has undermined her confidence enough that she thinks some of the things going wrong are her fault and she is trying to do what he wants. Also, the marriage isn’t terrible 100% of the time. Royce can be kind and funny and charming, there are lots of gifts and times when they do have fun. It’s also the 1930s, and if Rosalie wanted to leave, she doesn’t have a lot of options as to where to go. Back to her parents, who would probably encourage her to go right back to her husband? Run away with no money, no skills, and no contacts? In a lot of ways Rosalie is stuck right where she is, caught up firmly in Royce’s web.  
> At least she’s starting to see Emmett though! Right?


	12. Chess

_Dear Emmett, Hello, how are you? I am good. There are four new kittens in the barn. Two are black and one is black and white and one is black and grey striped. Elizabeth and me named them John and Patrick and Henry and Emmett, after our big brothers. You are the grey stripy one. The momma cat is the black one with the chewed off ear. Love from Stephen._

_Dear Emmett, why don’t you come home everyone is mean to me mama won’t make me a new dress and she makes me do knitting and knitting is stupid and Hannah smacked me when I dropped the milk and it wasn’t my fault it was slippery and the boys won’t let me play with them and maggie is mean too but I forget why and you don’t come home and that’s mean and nothing is fair and I love you from Elizabeth._

I sat at the kitchen table, reading my letters from home. I always read Ma’s long, newsy letter first so that I knew what was happening at home. I always read Elizabeth’s last because they made me laugh. She still hadn’t mastered punctuation.

Today’s was no exception. I closed my eyes for a moment and swallowed down the lump in my throat- as always when I thought of my baby sister laughter was tied very closely with tears.

“All well at home?” Miss Ellen asked, busy whipping cream.

“Pretty good.” I didn’t tell her that it was obvious, reading between the lines, that money was even tighter than before. I was thankful once again that Lachlan had been able to get me this job and I could help them out. I was also glad that I’d finally finished paying off the loan for the clothes and I would be able to send more money home. It was clear that they needed it.

I tucked my letters carefully into my front pocket and, whistling cheerfully, went out of the kitchen into the hall and then into the conservatory. This room, attached to the south side of the house, gave the impression it was made entirely from glass, and was filled with plants and rattan furniture, and little tables for tea. And today it also held Rosalie, sitting on a sofa and scowling ferociously. Her legs were tucked up under her, and she had a book in one hand and a chessboard laid out on the table in front of her.

Abashed I stopped whistling. “I’m sorry ma’am, I’ll just go.”

“What? Oh no,” Rosalie shook her head dismissively. “Just do what you came in here to do, it’s fine.”

Slightly uncomfortable to be working in her presence I took the bucket and the shears and went around carefully snipping off dead leaves and overgrowth. I had never grown plants indoors before and I wasn’t too sure of it. As I moved around behind Rosalie I couldn’t resist looking her, at the beautiful shining gold of her hair, at the delicate lines of her neck as she bent forward over the board, flipping through pages in her book with an angry noise. It was only then that I saw that it was a chess book, and realised that she was trying to learn to play.

“You can’t move your knight that way.”

Rosalie’s head twisted around so she could look at me incredulously. “Excuse me?”

I figured I’d once again stepped over the line, so whatever I said now wasn’t going to matter. “Your knight. You’ve got the movement wrong.”

Rosalie frowned at the board. “The little horse?”

I didn’t bother to hide my grin. “Yes, the little horse. He can only move like this.” Leaning over the back of the sofa I demonstrated for her. “And the pawns can only move on the diagonal on the first move.” For a moment I stayed where I was, breathing in the scent of her and wishing things were different.

“That’s why my games weren’t going like in the book,” Rosalie sighed, adding in a slightly louder tone, “I take it from that that you play chess, McCarty.”

“My Pa plays, and he taught all of us,” I told her, a little awkwardly. “I’ve been able to play since I was a little one.”

“Can you show me?” Rosalie asked abruptly. “I’m trying to learn from the book, but it’s difficult without someone to play against.”

“I don’t mind,” I said cautiously. “But I’m supposed to be doing the garden…”

“Oh, forget about that!” Rosalie exclaimed. “Come and sit down, and please show me how to play this wretched game.”

“Okay then.” I pulled a chair up to the table, sitting opposite her, and I couldn’t resist asking, “So if you think chess is a ‘wretched game’, why do you want to learn?”

Rosalie’s face flushed. “Royce plays. I thought we could…” Her voice trailed away, and then she shook her head and said sharply, “It doesn’t matter. I just want to learn how.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said easily. “Look, you can set the board up, right?”

I pushed the white pieces towards her, noticing the dirt on my hands and the grime under my fingernails. For a moment I was embarrassed, but I shook it off. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know I was her gardener! All the same, I wiped my hands hard against my thighs before I arranged the black pieces.

“What’s this made of?” I asked curiously, weighing the pieces in my hand. It was much heavier than Pa’s old wooden set.

“Marble,” Rosalie answered, sliding her last piece into place.

“Nice,” I murmured appreciatively, placing the queen back on the board. “Okay, how about we play a game and I’ll walk you through it?”

Rosalie nodded, and tentatively moved a pawn to begin the game. I followed, explaining what I was doing and showing her what moves she might make and which one she should choose. She was a quick learner. I’d played with other beginner chess players  - Hannah, Maggie and Will when they were learning – but Rosalie left them miles behind.

“You’re doing well,” I complimented her as the game finished. “I think you’ve got it down now, all you really need is practise.”

Rosalie didn’t smile as she began lining her pieces up again. “Let’s play again. Properly this time.”

I shrugged a little and began arranging my pieces too.

“I’m sorry,” Rosalie said, a little stiffly, after several moves made in silence. “That was rude of me, demanding you play like that.”

“I don’t mind.” For the first time I looked her straight in the eyes. “Playing chess beats cleaning that car for the millionth time.”

I held my breath, for a moment terrified that I’d really been out of line, but Rosalie’s angel face suddenly creased into a broad smile, and she laughed. “Well, I appreciate a clean car, but I’m glad you were willing to take a break and teach me.”

I grinned back and then moved my rook, capturing one of her pawns. “You might be sorry about that when I whip you.”

Rosalie rescued her knight from my rook. “You said your…your father taught you?”

“He taught all of us. He loves chess.” I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the familiar pang of homesickness.

“All of you? How many are there?”

“I’ve got five brothers and four sisters.”

Rosalie eyebrows rose. “That’s a big family. What does your father do?”

“He’s a farmhand. Works for our neighbours, they’ve got a big place,” I answered, taking her bishop.

She frowned at the board. “Does your family have a farm too then?”

“We’ve got a little bit of land. Not enough to make a living off though, just enough to grow some veggies and have a few dairy cows and some scrubby forest for hunting.” I frowned briefly, hoping that Will was keeping up the snares and that between them the younger ones were catching enough fish.

“You talk like you miss it,” Rosalie said, and I was surprised by her astuteness.

“I do miss it,” I said honestly.

“You’d rather live out in the country than here in the city?” Rosalie sounded puzzled.

“Why does that surprise you?”

“Well, the city has the latest in shopping and entertainment and business and everything. And what’s out in the country? Some animals, and…I don’t know. Dirt? Probably some grass…boring.” Rosalie made a face.

Forgetting about the chess game I roared with laughter. “You’ve never been to the country, have you?”

Rosalie smirked at me and shook her head. “I’ve driven through some of it and that was boring enough.”

“It’s not boring,” I told her. “Not when you’re up at dawn and stalking deer while the mist clears, or playing in the river on a hot summer day or…” I shook my head, feeling foolish. “I can’t explain it to you. But you’d know if you were there, it’s really not boring.”

“I suppose it helps if you have all those brothers and sisters to play with,” Rosalie commented.

I snorted. “Play with…or get tortured by! I was fourth boy, fifth in line, and the baby for five years and I got whaled on. Even my sister could give me a beat down back then!”

Rosalie was laughing, and my belly felt warm just from seeing her happy. “I can’t imagine it!”

“I was little back then,” I said, taking two pawns in quick succession. “They were all bigger than me. But they’ve all left home now, so it’s just me and Hannah and the little ones.” I paused a moment. “Well, I suppose not me anymore.”

“How little are the little ones?” Rosalie looked frustrated as she eyed off the board.

“Well Hannah’s fifteen and Maggie’s eleven, Will’s nine, Stephen’s seven and Elizabeth is five. She writes me letters every week,” I added shyly. “They’re really funny…you can see if you want.”

“Well, I think I’ve just lost this chess game, so perhaps reading a letter is a good idea.” Rosalie sounded displeased, and I deduced that she really didn’t like to lose.

“I told you I’d whip you,” I said teasingly, and after a moment of frozen silence she shook her head and smiled ruefully at me.

“So you did.”

“It was only your first game though,” I consoled. “No one ever wins their first game, but you remembered all the rules and at least you know how to play now.”

“Royce will be surprised.” Rosalie absent-mindedly twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “Now, can I see your letter?”

Immediately wishing I’d never made the offer, I handed over Elizabeth’s creased, ink blotted letter. I was suddenly afraid of giving this precious thing of my heart to Rosalie, not knowing what she would do with it.

But as Rosalie read, her face went soft and a smile danced at the corners of her mouth. “Oh McCarty, she sounds like a sweetheart.”

“She can be a handful, but she’s always been my little buddy.” I took the letter and folded it back up to slip into my pocket.

“You’re lucky,” Rosalie said quietly.

I grinned. “When it comes to my family I sure am. But I should be getting back to work now.”

“I’m sorry, by all means yes. I’ve held you up long enough.”

Rosalie began gathering the chess pieces up and laying them in a velvet-lined drawer that came out from under the board. I picked up the pieces closest to me and began to put them in their places, feeling the warmth of her fingers brush against mine. I wished I could just wrap my hand around hers, pull her towards me and hold her…

“Thanks for the game,” I muttered awkwardly, getting to my feet and backing away with my hands in my pockets. “I’m just going to get on with my work now.”

Rosalie looked slightly confused, but as she nodded at me she was already fading back into her distant, aristocratic self. “Of course. Thank you for the lesson McCarty, I appreciate it.”

I nodded back. “Anytime, ma’am.”

___________________________________________________________

Learning about the many sides of Rosalie was hopelessly confusing. Playing chess we had been genuinely laughing together, just like any two friends, and I thought we were getting to know each other. After that she went right back to being the boss and didn’t even bother looking me in the eye for the next week. As far as I could tell from what I overheard in the car and at home, she and Royce veered from romantic sugary sweetness to hissing and snarling at each other like a pair of cats. I had no idea of which was Rosalie’s real face. 

Then she came into the kitchen while I was eating breakfast one morning with a cardboard box that she put down beside me, along with a small handful of money. Unable to speak due to the mouthful of porridge and syrup I’d just sucked off the spoon I looked up at her dumbly.

“It’s a doll,” she told me. “One of mine from when I was little; Mother moved a whole trunkful of them into the attic here.” For a moment Rosalie looked embarrassed. “There are so many, it’s silly to keep them all. After reading your letter I thought about your sister, and I thought she might like one.”

I could feel my face heating up with embarrassment. “Uh ma’am, that’s really kind but you don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” Rosalie said stubbornly. “Do you think she wouldn’t like it?”

I thought of Elizabeth, with the little ragdoll she slept with every night and her always entertaining efforts to wrap kittens in blankets so she could play mama to her ‘baby’ and I couldn’t stop my grin. “I think she’d like it a lot. And if you’re sure, then I’m very grateful and I know she will be too.”

Rosalie gave me one of the smiles that lit up her angel face and just about took my breath away with its beauty. “I’m so glad. I chose the celluloid doll because it’s less breakable, and it’s wrapped up in a blanket to protect it in the post. If you could address the parcel and take it to the post office this morning?”

“Sure ma’am, I can do that.” Unsure of the right thing to do I just looked up at her and smiled. It felt strange to be sitting while she was standing. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Very good. Thank you.” She turned on her heel and left, and I touched the sturdy cardboard box and smiled to myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – A bit of a throwback to the two of them playing chess as vampires in All That I Am! Funny thing is I didn’t even think about that when I started to write it, so there must just be something about the two of them that says ‘chess’ to me.  
> I have to say I’m glad I’m doing alternate chapters, because Emmett’s are always a lot lighter and it’s nice to break up the sadness of Rosalie’s terrible marriage with something a little more cheerful.


	13. Bought and Paid For

“Thank you Ellen,” I said as the housekeeper laid the breakfast tray on the table.

Ignoring her, Royce took the post and began flipping through the envelopes as I helped Ellen take the dishes off the tray. Eggs and bacon for Royce, fresh fruit and pancakes for me. “This looks lovely.”

“Letter for you,” Royce said, tossing it carelessly towards me as I was slicing an apple. I put down the knife and popped a piece of the sweet fruit into my mouth as I opened up the letter.

_Dear Miss Rosalie, thank you for the doll I love her and play with her every day her name is Rosie it was so nice of you to send her to me she is my favourite thank you please tell Emmett I love him and miss him hugs and kisses from Elizabeth Adeline McCarty_

I giggled for a minute, and then realised that Royce was looking at me quizzically. “It’s a letter from McCarty’s little sister,” I told him. “I sent her a doll, and she’s written a thank you letter.”

“Why on earth would you have sent her anything?” Royce asked.

I shrugged. “Why not? Mother gave me a trunk full of my old dolls and they’re just sitting up in the attic gathering dust. I read a letter she wrote to McCarty and she seemed like a sweetheart, so I sent her one. That’s all.”

Royce was scowling at me.

“What?” I said in exasperation. “I don’t understand why you care! I sent a doll to a little girl whose family doesn’t have much money. It’s nothing important!”

“McCarty’s family though,” Royce muttered.

I felt a shiver of unease run down my spine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Royce’s eyes bore into mine. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

I tossed my head. “Royce, you’re being ridiculous. He’s friendly, that’s all.”

“He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real,” Royce said flatly. “I’ve ignored it because he’s good at his job and he keeps his mouth shut, but if I thought for one second there was something else between you and him…”

“Well there isn’t,” I snapped. “He’s polite and friendly and he escorts me everywhere because _you_ don’t want me to leave the house alone. That’s the end of it.”

I resolutely began buttering toast, ignoring Royce as he irritably snapped opened the paper and began reading. But my hands were sweating and the knife slipped in my grasp, because I couldn’t deny the tiny grain of truth in Royce’s words.

McCarty _did_ look at me and I knew it. I liked it too; it had always bolstered my ego to know that men found me attractive.  But there was more than avaricious desire in the way McCarty looked at me; there was a genuine tenderness that touched me and that I had unconsciously responded to. Royce’s words had made me suddenly terrified that he had noticed.

_I’m married! McCarty is my driver and gardener and nothing more! Just because he’s always kind and easy to talk to, and makes me laugh…_

I ruthlessly quashed the thought.

_______________________________________________________

McCarty was outside, splitting wood, when I went searching for him later on. He was behind the garage, his shirt off and tossed over a bush, bare-chested as he swung the axe.

I stopped dead, my hand covering my mouth. _Oh, look at him…_ I had never seen a man made so perfectly. _Emmett._ His name drifted through my mind and I became uncomfortably aware that, for the first time in my life, I was reacting physically to the sight of a man. My heart thudded faster and my body felt flushed as I stared at the way his muscles moved through his back and shoulders as he raised the axe and brought it down hard.

_For heaven’s sake Rosalie, what’s wrong with you?_

“McCarty!” I called sharply.

McCarty swung around to face me, his face gleaming with sweat. “Ma’am?” With some dexterity he threw the axe into the air and caught it with his other hand. “Do you need me?”

“I wanted to go and see Vera,” I said, struggling to hold on to my composure as he stepped closer to me. _Oh, I can smell him…_ It wasn’t the smell of hair oil and scent like Royce, but a sharper, more natural smell. _Masculine…_

“Are you all right ma’am?” McCarty asked curiously. “You look a bit bothered.”

“I’m fine!” I snapped. “I want to visit my friend; can you walk with me please?”

“Aye, the wood can wait.” McCarty reached out and grabbed his shirt, swiping it across his face and looking a little embarrassed. “Excuse me ma’am. I’ll just go and wash up and get dressed.”

Ten minutes later I was striding down the street, McCarty walking at my side wearing a clean shirt and with his damp hair still bearing the marks of the comb.

“You really don’t have to come with me you know,” I said, a little petulantly. Ridiculously too, since I was the one who had asked that he come with me. “It’s only a few streets, I used to walk it alone all the time.”

“You know I have to come with you,” McCarty said mildly. “I’ll stay out of the way once you’re safe there.”

“I had a letter from your sister,” I said, changing the topic abruptly. “She wanted to thank me for the doll.” For a moment I relaxed and gave him a genuine smile. “I loved her letter.”

McCarty chuckled. “They make me laugh every week,” he admitted. “Her spelling’s improving, but she still writes like she’s never heard of a full stop.”

“Does she go to school?” I asked.

McCarty gave me a look. “We’re not that poor that we don’t go to school,” he said shortly.

“I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly, a moment later. “I didn’t mean that. I just didn’t know if she was old enough…”

“I’m sorry,” said McCarty, the tension leaving his body too. “I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I just sometimes get defensive about my family not having much money, because my Pa works just as hard as any of the men here in Rochester. It’s only that what he does doesn’t pay that well. And my Ma has raised ten children without much help and I hate to think that anyone might be looking down on them.”

“I don’t look down on you or your family,” I said, a little surprised to realise how true it was. I had to admit I had always been something of a snob, but McCarty himself was beginning to make me see things in a different light. “They raised _you_ , and you’re…” Feeling my face heating up with embarrassment I let my voice drift away.

McCarty gave me that slow, sweet smile that I’d never seen him give anyone else. “Well, thank you Miss Rosalie,” he murmured. “And to answer your question, Elizabeth goes to school. She’s well ahead of the other kids though, because when my Ma was sick she taught her a lot. Ma couldn’t do anything much around the house, but she could sit up in bed with Elizabeth and teach her the ABCs. She’s a smart little thing, and she’s getting along real well.”

He sounded so proud of her. I wished for a moment that I had had a sibling, one who might have taken some of the pressure off when I was growing up, and who might be as kind and caring to me now as McCarty was to his sister.

“Why don’t you come in?” I said as we came in sight of Vera’s house. “Vera and I will visit in the sitting room, but you could sit in the kitchen and have a cup of tea.”

McCarty hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m supposed to.”

“I’m sure,” I said, mounting the steps and knocking with the shiny brass knocker. “It will be fine…Vera, hello!”

“Rosalie!” Vera opened the door and hugged me. She smelled like baking bread. “Hello!”

“Vera, it won’t bother you if McCarty has a drink in the kitchen while we’re talking, will it?” I said.

“Not at all.” Vera stooped down and collected Henry, who had crawled up the hallway after her, and smiled at McCarty. “It’s nice to actually meet you.”

“You too, ma’am,” he said, smiling easily as he reached a hand out to Henry. “Hey big fella.”

Henry gave McCarty a drooling smile and swung a fist at him. McCarty chuckled and caught it in his big hands for a moment. “You’re gonna be a boxer? Good move, but I’m a bit out of your weight class I think.”

Vera laughed and stepped back, inviting us both in. “Rosalie, can you take Henry into the sitting room? I’ll just find Mr McCarty a cup of tea, and then bring in something for us.”

I carried the baby into the sitting room and sat on the floor with him, handing him his toys one at a time so he could hurl them across the room with a delighted screech. When Vera came in with the tea things I sat up on the sofa and held him on my knee while he gnawed on a cookie.

“You’re so good with him Rose,” Vera said, looking at me thoughtfully. “Do you think you might be…”

I shrugged and shook my head at the same time. “I don’t know. It’s too early to know for sure.”

“How is that part of things going?” Vera said delicately. “It all worked out well?”

I hesitated, long enough that Vera’s face turned from interest to concern.

“Oh Rose, it’s not? You can talk to me if you want to.”

I played with one of Henry’s dark curls and thought, absurdly, about McCarty’s dark curly hair. Shaking my head to clear it I said awkwardly, “It’s….difficult. I’m not sure what he wants from me. And…it hurts.”

Vera bit her lip, and then rose and went to the bookshelf. Rummaging around for a moment she pulled a small volume out from behind some other books and then came and handed it to me, her face resolute. “Perhaps this will help?”

She took the baby and I dusted the crumbs off my hands and looked at the book. _Married Love_ , was the title, and I flipped it open to a random page and skimmed quickly. “Vera!”

“I know, it’s scandalous,” Vera giggled, relaxing when she realised I wasn’t disapproving. “Believe it or not, my _mother_ gave me that. Since Papa died she’s been reading newspapers and going to a woman’s group and getting all kinds of modern ideas! But the book- it’s written by a lady doctor and it was published in Britain ages ago, but wasn’t sold here because it was considered obscene. They changed the ruling on it in 1931, so when I got married my mother bought it for me.”

I couldn’t help laughing. I loved Vera’s mother.

“Read the book, Rose,” Vera counselled. “I can’t promise it will help you, but the more you know about yourself, and about what goes on between husbands and wives the better. Maybe Royce would read it too? Jim read it, and that helped us talk to each other more openly.”

I nodded doubtfully. Royce was my husband, but he wasn’t my friend in the way that Vera and Jim seemed to be friends. I couldn’t see him reading anything. _He_ seemed perfectly satisfied with what went on in the bedroom. Thoughtfully I slipped the book into my purse, and began playing peekaboo with Henry.

___________________________________________

Vera’s book was absorbing. I had never read anything that spoke so frankly about marriage and the relationship between husband and wife. It made me see the vast gulf between what Royce and I shared and what was ideal, the ideal that I _wanted._ Where was the respect between Royce and I that would make such a relationship possible? He didn’t respect me, not really. He could be light and joking and loving and sweet with me, but he could be jealous and petty and cruel when he wanted to be too. And the more I saw of that side of him, the less I respected him and the more likely I was to snap back and be petty and nasty in return.

Reading Vera’s book though, I began to think that perhaps it was possible to mend. Maybe we could change things, both of us try a little harder, and this marriage might be everything I had hoped for when I was a naïve girl.

I was anxious to share my new insights with Royce, but we had his parents and some other business associates over for dinner and it certainly wasn’t dinner table conversation! Instead I left the book on the bed and dressed up to play the beautiful, sophisticated hostess, pretending perfect contentment with my life. It was a part I played well, and I smiled and talked and accepted the many compliments with grace.

I was happy to see them go. Royce and I stood at the door and waved as his parents climbed into the car and Lachlan closed the door for them. I could see his clear resemblance to McCarty in the mouth and eyes, and I gave him a wave too before Royce closed the door and held me close, kissing me gently.

“As always Mrs King, an excellent evening,” he said teasingly, and I laughed.

“Thank you Mr King.”

“They’re always looking at your stomach you know,” Royce added conversationally.

“What?!”

“My mother and father- they’re just waiting for you to get pregnant. Every time I see her lately Mother is asking me if we have any special news for her.” Royce ran a hand down over my belly. “I don’t know…do you think you’re any fatter?”

I pushed his hand away. “Oh, stop it! It’ll happen when it happens, and you can be sure I’ll tell you as soon as I know!”

Royce laughed and kissed me again, his hand already starting to open the buttons of my dress. “Well, if we want to get you pregnant there’s only one thing to do,” he murmured lasciviously.

“Oh yes, about that…” I struggled to get away from his hands as we climbed the stairs and entered our room. “I wanted to talk to you.”

I finally ducked away from him, my unfastened dress slipping off so that I was only in my underwear as I took the book and gave it to him. “I read it this afternoon. I thought maybe you could read it too and…”

“What the hell?” Royce had tossed his tie and half unbuttoned his shirt before he took the book and glanced at it. “What are you doing reading smut like this?”

“It’s not smut!” I protested. “It’s about being married, and Royce, maybe if we both read it we could make some things better…”

“What? Are you saying there’s a problem?” Royce’s voice was low, as he tossed the book on the dresser and stalked towards me. His face was dark with anger.

“Not a _problem_ exactly,” I said, backing away from him. “But it’s…it’s hard for me sometimes Royce. I _want_ to do what you want and make you happy, but I don’t always know what that is! And sometimes…well, nearly all the time…it hurts, and maybe if we do something it wouldn’t…”

“So you don’t like it? So who cares?,” Royce snarled. “I like it and that’s all that matters.”

“But it’s not all that matters!” I shouted. “We should be a _partnership_ Royce, and you treat me like…”

“For fuck’s sake Rosalie, _shut up!_ ” Royce roared.

“I won’t! You need to _listen_ to me…”

Royce lunged towards me and hit me. Open handed, across the face, with a crack that seemed to echo through the room.

For a moment there was silence, as Royce glowered at me and I held my hands against my burning face and stared at him.

“If you ever, EVER hit me again…” I hissed.

“What?” Royce smirked at me. “You’ll hit me back?”

“Maybe,” I said, wishing I could scratch his eyes out of his head.

“I’d like to see you try,” he snorted.

“I’ll tell my father.” I threatened. “He won’t let you hurt me like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Royce laughed maliciously. “My father’s his biggest client now and makes him most of his money. Do you really think he’s going to lose that because you run to him telling tales like a child? And _my_ father doesn’t give a shit what I do to you as long as I fill your belly and you give him the grandchild he wants.” He stalked over to me and gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Face it Rosalie, you’re mine…bought and paid for, and damned if I won’t do what I want with you.”


	14. Choices

_Dear Emmett, What is it like in Rochester? You don’t say enough information in your letters. Are the houses all huge and beautiful and is everyone rich? Are there gardens and parks and stores for everything? What about the people you work for? Is their car fancy? What does the lady wear? Do they have parties and friends over and go to the theatre and dancing? Please, please, PLEASE write back and tell me!!! Love your sister Margaret._

_P.S. I think I should be called Margaret instead of Maggie now that I am almost grown up but no one ever remembers._

_P.P.S. Everyone here at home is fine._

_P.P.P.S. I miss you._

_Dear Emmett, I went hunting with Pa and I shot my first buck. I go fishing and catch rabbits in the snares. I am not as good as you. I got the strap at school two times. One day I saw a bear. When are you coming for a visit? From your brother Will._

I gave a hiccupping laugh as I refolded my letters and sank back into the armchair. I missed my family so much, and nothing brightened my day so much as a new bunch of letters from home.

I stretched my legs out in front of me and sighed. It was dark and I really should have been heading back to my own room to get some sleep, but I was reluctant. Earlier in the evening I’d been in the kitchen, eating a late supper of dinner leftovers, when I had heard the shouting from upstairs. I’d paused in my eating and looked at Miss Ellen, but she had resolutely kept her eyes on her work.

“Not our business, Emmett,” she murmured, but even she had stopped and glanced uneasily up at the ceiling when we heard Rosalie’s enraged shriek.

“I’m going up to see that she’s not hurt,” I said bluntly, pushing away from the table.

Miss Ellen put a restraining hand on my arm. “Emmett…” she began warningly, stopping when we heard the shouted string of curses in Rosalie’s forceful voice. “Well, she’s clearly not hurt too badly.”

“I don’t like him,” I said flatly, knowing I was breaking the rules by voicing my true feelings about my employer, but not able to help myself even so. “He doesn’t treat her right and I don’t trust him not to hurt her.”

Miss Ellen had shaken her head, but she hadn’t contradicted me and I knew I wasn’t alone in my feelings.

After my supper I’d sat down in the conservatory with a handful of letters, strangely reluctant to leave the house. Somehow I felt it was my job to protect her, that capricious, confusing angel. Knowing that, realistically, there was almost nothing I could do I still sat stubbornly in the conservatory, rereading my letters and staring out at the dark garden.

I almost missed her when she came in, walking as silently as a wraith through the conservatory towards the outside door.

“Miss Rosalie!”

She shrieked and jumped away, but in a second I was by her side, catching hold of her arm to steady her.

“You scared the hell out of me!” she gasped.

“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop looking at her. Her hair was out, tumbling down her back in waves that shone silver in the moonlight, and as I peered closer there were shiny tracks of tears on her face. Without thinking I reached out a hand and gently wiped away her tears with my thumb. “Aww sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Rosalie didn’t seem to notice my slip, as she pulled away and said in a shaky voice, “I want a fire in the small sitting room. I was going to get some wood, I didn’t think anyone was still up.”

“Let me help you,” I said gently. “Go on, go back to the sitting room and I’ll be in in a moment.”

Without a word Rosalie turned and disappeared back into the house. Troubled, I went and fetched the wood and walked tentatively through the dark and silent house to the small sitting room.

Rosalie was crouched on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs and her eyes on the empty hearth. She hadn’t turned on the light, but there was enough moonlight coming through the window that I could see what I was doing as I knelt beside her and set the fire. Both of us quietly watched the flames lick their way through the kindling and catch the bigger sticks and then work on the logs I laid carefully on top.

Rosalie made a tiny noise, and looking at her I realised that she was crying. Thinking of nothing but the fact that this angel girl was unhappy I wrapped her in my arms and, after a moment of frozen resistance, she burrowed against my chest and sobbed.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay…come on baby girl, it’s not that bad…” I was barely aware of myself, focused only on the slim body that was wracked with sobs in my arms, and the sweet smelling silky hair that ran through my fingers as I stroked her back. “Oh, Rosalie…”

Finally Rosalie drew a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away from me. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pushing her hair back and then sitting huddled, her arms wrapped around her knees.

I had to stop myself from bending low and kissing her perfectly bowed lips. Instead I ran a hand through my hair and said softly, “It’s okay.”

Rosalie said nothing, her chin resting on her knees as she stared at the flames.

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked finally.

A long beat of silence, and then Rosalie shook her head.

“You seem so sad,” I ventured.

Rosalie gave a bitter laugh. “Sad…my life is a shambles McCarty.”

“But…”

“I know,” she interrupted me harshly. “What room do I have to complain? This house, the car, you and Ellen to do all the work, all that _money…_ but what if it’s not worth it?” She shifted restlessly. “I’m starting to learn that it all doesn’t come free.”

I can’t say that I really understood what she was talking about. I _did_ think her life was easy, and I didn’t know what she meant about paying for all that she had. But then I thought about her husband, and my belly tightened until I felt sick.

“I thought it was everything I wanted,” Rosalie whispered, and now she really did sound sad. “But it’s not, and I don’t know what to do, and…how did it all go so wrong?”

“Maybe you can fix it?” I said tentatively.

“I’m trying. But it doesn’t help when he…oh, what does it matter?!” Rosalie shook her head in frustration. “Nothing is ever going to change it. It’s the way it is…what about you, McCarty? Do you have a girl?”

The abrupt change of topic left me floundering. _How can I have another girl when all I see when I close my eyes is YOU?_

At least I didn’t say it.

“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t.”

“Make sure you love her,” Rosalie said bluntly. “Make sure she’s _exactly_ what you want, and that you are what she wants…don’t kid yourself that the little things don’t mean anything.”

I didn’t say anything, and after a long time Rosalie said slowly, “I’ve probably horrified you tonight. I know my behaviour has been completely inappropriate.”

“I don’t care about appropriate,” I said honestly. “I just care about…about you.”

For the first time Rosalie looked at me, her eyes dark and fathomless in the flickering firelight and her face bare of pretence, and I saw how much pain she was in. I would have kissed it away from her, traced my lips across that tender skin and soft mouth and kissed her til nothing mattered but each other…

_She’s MARRIED, Emmett!_

My Pa’s voice, heavy and disappointed with me, echoed through my mind and I turned away from Rosalie and said awkwardly, “I don’t like to think about you being sad, that’s all.”

Because I honestly thought that she shouldn’t be sad, not that angel girl. That face was made for kisses and smiles, not ugly words and tears. She should always be glowing, as bright and shining with beauty and happiness and love as she had been that first day I saw her. She shouldn’t be like this, hurting and angry and alone.

But she wasn’t mine. Maybe I didn’t like him, maybe I suspected that he did more than shout at Rosalie when they fought, maybe I had seen and overheard enough to make me think he was scum…Royce King was still her husband. She had chosen _him_.

She had chosen wrong.

“I should go,” I said quietly, dealing with the fire so that it was safe.

Rosalie twined a long ribbon of hair around her finger and stared at the spiralling curl that it left. “Of course. I’ve kept you up far too long,” she said, slipping back automatically into what I thought of as her ‘lady of the manor’ tone. “Thank you for your assistance with the fire.”

I hesitated at the door, looking back. She was extraordinary in the firelight, hair like molten gold and face like a marble angel as she stared expressionlessly into the flames. She turned her head, and for a long time we stared at each other before she said quietly, “ Goodnight, McCarty.”

“Goodnight ma’am.”

__________________________________________________________

“McCarty, if you have something to say perhaps you should just say it?”

Rosalie stopped by the rose arbour and looked at me with her eyebrows raised. We’d been walking around the garden so I could tell her what I’d been doing and she could tell me what she wanted me to do next, but I’d been a bit distracted.

Laughing, I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sorry ma’am. It’s nothing important, I was just wondering…” Horribly embarrassed, I let my voice trail away.

Rosalie looked curious. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s my sister’s birthday soon. Hannah. She’s going to be sixteen, and since I’ve got some money I wanted to buy her something nice but…well, it should be something useful too, you know, and I thought clothes but, well, girls clothes…So I thought maybe I could ask you…I know it’s a huge favour…”

“You want me to help you buy some clothes for your sister?” Rosalie was laughing now.

“Yes,” I said sheepishly. “If it’s not too big of an imposition that is. I don’t even know where to go to buy a dress, and I wouldn’t know what one to pick even if I did! And you always look so nice…” I could feel myself blushing and I ran a hand distractedly through my hair.

“I’d love to help,” Rosalie said, sounding genuinely pleased. “It will be fun to shop for something someone _needs_ instead of just shopping to spend money!”

If possible I felt more awkward than asking her for help as I said, “Well, that’s the thing, I don’t have _so_ much money…I mean, I can’t buy anything like what you wear…”

“Never mind about that,” Rosalie said quickly. “I’ll ask Vera. She’ll know the best place to go.”

Rosalie must have been bored with nothing planned for her day, because before I knew it she had phoned Vera and been told the best store to go to for affordable quality clothes and demanded that I get dressed in something more respectable and get out the car. I felt like I should be finishing my work in the garden before I took off shopping, but Rosalie airily dismissed my concerns.

“I want to go shopping,” she said to me with a wicked grin. “And you _know_ I’m not allowed to leave the house without you!”

The shop Vera had directed Rosalie to try was a little further away than her normal stores. When we got there I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as I saw the ladies going in and out. They were wearing nice things, but things that were much more similar to what my Ma and sisters wore at home than the fancy dresses Rosalie seemed to like.

“So tell me about Hannah,” Rosalie said briskly, after I’d parked the car and we were walking towards the shop. “What sort of colours and things does she like?”

“Well, she mostly wears a lot of hand-me-downs,” I admitted. “But when she gets to pick she likes red, and things with flowers on them. She’s not a very fussy person and she doesn’t care about what’s fashionable – Maggie would, but Hannah doesn’t mind so much.”

“I like hearing about your family,” Rosalie said, unexpectedly. “I like the way they’re all so different, and you know them so well.”

“When you all live in a four roomed house you don’t have much choice but to get to know each other!” I said cheerfully, stopping before the door and putting out a hand to stop Rosalie. “Here,” I said to her, digging in my pocket and withdrawing a fistful of crumpled bills and coins. “This is all the money I have, so whatever you pick can only cost this much.” I felt my face blazing in humiliation.

“That’s fine,” Rosalie said, matter-of-factly. For a brief moment her hand cupped mine as she turned my palm down to tip the money into her hand. She tucked it away in her purse. “That will be enough.”

“How can I help you?” A saleslady came over almost as soon as we were through the door. I saw her assessing Rosalie’s clothes and purse and the diamond rock on her finger, and her smile turned more subservient. “What are you looking for today?”

“We’re after a dress for my driver’s sister,” Rosalie explained. “She’s a young girl – turning sixteen – so a nice day dress would be the thing. Something sturdy, but pretty.”

“Of course,” the saleslady agreed. “If you come over here you might find something you like.”

“What size, McCarty?” Rosalie asked, as she worked her way through a rack of dresses, considering each one.

“Umm…” I said vaguely. “I suppose she’s not so tall as you.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Yes, fine, but that’s not very helpful! What else? Is she slender or a bigger girl? What kind of waist and bust? I’m not expecting measurements, but we need _some_ idea.”

It was turning into one of the more embarrassing days of my life as I stood before Rosalie and tried to describe my sister Hannah. “Well, she’s not so tall as you, and not so…” I moved my hands in the vague direction of my chest, trying to imply that I meant breasts without making it seem like I spent a lot of time eyeing off Rosalie’s figure. I caught the glint of amusement in Rosalie’s eyes. “She’s little,” I finished firmly.

“Very well,” Rosalie said, letting me off the hook. “We’ll choose one of the smaller dresses, but it’s better to err on the side of it being too big. It’s easy to have it taken in, but if it’s too small there’s not a lot you can do. What’s her colouring like? Similar to yours?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved that it was an easy question to answer. “We all look pretty much the same, all blue eyes and dark curly hair.”

Rosalie held up a red dress with a print of white flowers. I didn’t know enough about dresses to really have an opinion, but Rosalie was smiling in a satisfied sort of way so I knew that I was supposed to like this one.

“Perfect,” I said obligingly. “Can I afford it?”

“Yes.” Holding the dress Rosalie turned and walked quickly to the counter, and by the time I had worked my way through the narrow aisles between the racks she had handed over the cash and was talking to the lady at the register as she wrapped up the dress, and someone else wrote the receipt. Rosalie snatched the receipt and stuffed it into her purse before I could catch a glimpse of it, and I had a sudden suspicion that the money I’d saved up hadn’t been enough and she had made up the shortfall.

“I bought some gloves, and had them wrap them with the dress,” Rosalie told me cheerfully. “Just something from me too. She can hardly wear a pretty new dress without lovely new gloves to go with it!”

All I could do was agree.


	15. The Proper Thing

The waiting room was plain, but very clean. The furniture was utilitarian rather than comfortable, and the only decoration was a potted plant on a side table. Not at all like the almost opulent rooms of the doctor my mother in law had recommended.

But Vera had suggested this man, and I suppose in a small way I was rebelling against the constant policing of my actions and behaviour by Royce and his family. At least in this I could make up my own mind.

“Mrs King? I’m Dr Carlisle Cullen.” The doctor came out into the room himself, holding out a hand to shake mine, and giving me a friendly smile. There was something about the handsome blonde man that made me trust him immediately.

“I’m Rosalie King.” I shook his hand firmly and followed him into his office, taking the chair he indicated. Rather than sitting across the imposing desk, Dr Cullen took a seat on the same side as me and looked at me expectantly.

“What can I do for you today, Mrs King?”

I bit my lip and then finally gave voice to the deepest wish of my heart. “I think I’m going to have a baby.”

Dr Cullen’s eyes crinkled up as he smiled at me. “Well, it sounds like that would be welcome news for you.”

“Yes,” I said eagerly. “I got married three and a half months ago and I haven’t menstruated since two weeks before that.”

“That might well indicate a pregnancy. Do you generally menstruate regularly?”

I nodded, too excited to even feel embarrassed. I wanted this so badly! A baby, a tiny little bundle of sweetness to bring Royce and I closer and really make us a family. “Always.”

Dr Cullen scribbled some notes in my file. “Any other symptoms? Sickness, tiredness, sore breasts?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I’m going to give you an examination now,” Dr Cullen told me. “That way we can confirm what’s happening in there and discuss what we do from here on. Now, I need you to take off your clothes, including your underwear, and put on this gown. I’ll be back in a moment.”

I took the soft cotton gown that Dr Cullen handed me, and once he had left the room I began taking off my dress. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment. I’d never had to undress for the doctor before. But I did what I was asked, and I was shivering on the examining table when there was a quick knock and Dr Cullen returned.

“Lie back please. I need to do an internal exam.” His smile was gentle and reassuring. “Just relax and it will be fine. I take it you haven’t had one before?”

Tremulously I shook my head.

“That’s okay. Let’s see what we can find out here.” Dr Cullen held his hands under running water for several moments. I could see the steam rising up and wondered how he could stand it so hot, but then he shut it off and came over to me.

Having his hands on me was uncomfortable but not painful, and he was quick and professional. Best of all, he confirmed what I had been so hopeful for- I was having a baby.

“You’re definitely pregnant, Mrs King,” Dr Cullen told me cheerfully as he washed his hands. “Considering the dates of your last menstrual period I’d say you’re close to four months pregnant and you’ve got a honeymoon baby in there.” He looked at me with an odd smile on his face. “I’d like to try and hear a heartbeat if you don’t mind. It’s very early and most doctors and midwives wouldn’t be able to, but I have a…little knack for it.”

I eagerly agreed and he took an odd, horn shaped item from a drawer and came to stand beside me.

“It’s a fetoscope,” he told me, gently drawing the gown up over my belly. “By holding this against the womb I can hear the foetal heartbeat, and….”

He paused, and I pushed up on my elbows, trying to see what he was looking at. _Oh. That._

“What happened here?” Dr Cullen asked softly, his cool fingers lightly touching the five bruises on each thigh, perfect imprints of four fingers and a thumb from big hands that had gripped far too hard.

I went to push the gown down, but he moved so fast I almost missed it and pushed it up until it was just under my breasts. “And here?” he said, his voice still quiet and steady, his fingers tracing the bruises there, feeling the ribs underneath.

I winced, grimacing as he pushed against the tender flesh. “Nothing happened.”

“Bruises like that don’t just appear out of nowhere.”

“I’m clumsy…I bruise easily. It doesn’t matter.” I shoved his hands away and yanked the gown down and this time he let me.

“I see a lot of women Rosalie, and I know what accidental bruising looks like. You are not clumsy and this is not accidental.”

“I _said_ it’s nothing!” I hissed.

Dr Cullen took a deep breath. “If someone is hurting you Rosalie, you don’t have to put up with it. There are things we can do…”

“There is _nothing_ you can do!”

“There are some programs to help women. There are people who will talk to…”

“To my husband?” I said incredulously. “ _Talk_ to him? Do you _know_ who my husband is, Dr Cullen?”

“Yes, I know,” he answered quietly.

“Then you know that there is nothing that you can do,” I said flatly. “Nothing at all that you, or anyone else, can do.”

There was a long silence, heavy with the unsaid, before Dr Cullen sighed and said, “Very well, Mrs King. But if you should decide you wish to talk to me – about anything – then my door is always open to you. In the meantime, eat well and get a good amount of sleep. Try and stay active, and keep up your regular activities because there’s no need to take to your bed. I’d like to see you again fairly soon, so I’ll leave you to dress and then we can make an appointment.”

He left the room and I sat for a moment, warm with the bliss of knowing that it was true, that there really was a baby growing, hidden deep inside me. I stood up and dropped the cotton robe, only then realising that there was a full length mirror in the corner of the room.

I stood in front of it, considering my own reflection. You couldn’t really tell that I was pregnant, I thought, although there was more of an outward curve on my lower belly than there had been. I ran my hand over it and couldn’t stop the idiotic smile that spread over my face. _A baby!_ But it was a smile that faded as I took in the bruises. The ones on my thighs and ribs that Dr Cullen had seen, and the ones on my breasts that he hadn’t. All tokens of what Royce considered love play.

_But that doesn’t matter! What matters is the baby…he’ll never hurt the baby, so he’ll leave me alone too. And I’ll try harder. I’ll make it work! Dr Cullen…what does he know about anything?_

__________________________________________________________

McCarty was waiting for me in the car, his head tipped back against the seat and his eyes closed as though he were sleeping. Like he had some preternatural sense of me though he opened his eyes and gave me a sleepy smile before I was even close enough to the car to knock on the window.

“All good ma’am?” he asked cheerfully, holding the front door for me without asking.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, sliding in to the car and waiting as McCarty closed the door and came around on his side.

“Where to now?”

“Shopping,” I said impulsively, “There’s something I just found out I need. The jeweller on Drummond Street.”

“Aye aye, cap’n,” McCarty murmured, easing the car out into the flow of traffic.

Although he always scrupulously maintained a polite and formal distance whenever Royce was nearby, McCarty was much more casual with me. I was occasionally surprised to realise how close we had grown. Between talking as we walked or as I rode beside him in the car, between the occasional chess game and the shared letters from his siblings, McCarty and I had developed a true and honest friendship, however unlikely that seemed.

“I don’t suppose you’ll need me to come along and carry the bags here,” McCarty remarked, parking the car is a spot outside the jeweller.

I giggled. “No thank you. I shouldn’t be too long.”

For once I _was_ quick with shopping, and McCarty looked surprised as he saw me approach the car.

“Are you ill?” he said in alarm. “Is that why you went to the doctor and you’re back from shopping so soon? Do we need to hurry home? Or should I take you back to the doctor?”

He took my arm like I was made of glass and helped me into the car.

“McCarty, don’t worry, I’m fine!” I beamed at him, unable to hide my happiness. “I just had to buy one thing that I wanted to show Royce tonight.” I brought the white jeweller’s box out of the bag and opened it up, showing McCarty the thick silver ring with the attached silver teddy bear.

“But that’s a baby teether…oh.” I couldn’t identify the quick flash of emotion on McCarty’s face before it was gone and he was smiling at me. “Does that mean…”

I nodded, ducking my face. “That’s why I went to the doctor.”

“Hey, that’s…that’s great! Congratulations.” McCarty’s eyes were focussed firmly on the road ahead, but he sounded sincere.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you,” I babbled. “It’s probably not the proper thing to do, but…”

“You worry too much about the _proper_ thing to do,” McCarty said abruptly.

I glanced over at him in surprise. “But…” My voice trailed away. How to explain to him the way I had been raised within those strict, social rules and how much they guided everything I did?

“You know…whatever, I probably just don’t get it, but a lot of that stuff doesn’t matter.” McCarty sounded almost angry. “Why shouldn’t you tell me? We’re friends. It shouldn’t be a big deal. You’re married, you’re having a baby…it’s kind of what happens. You shouldn’t worry so much about what other people might say about you.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” I said quietly, folding my arms.

“I don’t know what it’s like to have people talking and making judgements about me?” McCarty gave me an incredulous look.

“But it doesn’t bother you! You just do your own thing and don’t care!”

“You think I don’t care? You think it doesn’t bother me that your husband acts like I’m not even worth making eye contact with?” McCarty’s hands were gripping the wheel, his knuckles white. “You think it doesn’t bother me that everyone who sees me carrying your shopping and driving you home thinks that I’m your servant and not any kind of man at all? You think none of that _bothers_ me?”

I twisted my hands in my hair. “But you’re always…I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” McCarty said quietly. “Well, I don’t have the luxury of letting it show when things bother me. If I want to keep my job I take what he gives out and do what you order me to and I do it all with a smile, don’t I?”

Wordlessly I stared at him, hurt beyond measure. _I thought we were friends. I thought it wasn’t like that between us._ I turned away and stared out the window, and we drove home in silence.

I watched him work out in the garden that afternoon. From the chaise in the conservatory, where I was ostensibly reading, I had a good view of him as he dug and weeded and edged. He was quieter than normal though, without the usual cheerful whistling and occasional singing that usually accompanied his work.

I liked to watch him. I liked the contrast between that big, powerful body and the gentle way of his hands in the earth as he planted out the tiny seedlings. I liked the sure and confident way he moved, as though he was perfectly comfortable in his surroundings and in his own skin. I liked the feelings that arose in me as I watched him, even if I didn’t understand them then.

I was so busy watching him and thinking that I completely forgot that I was visible to him too. Not until he looked up and caught my eye did I think of it, and my attempts to hastily raise my book and look engrossed were embarrassingly transparent.

“Miss Rosalie.” McCarty said softly, leaning on the windowsill beside my chaise and holding out the single stem of a flower. “I upset you earlier, and I’m sorry.”

I took the flower and used it as a bookmark, carefully laying it flat between the pages I was reading. “Do you really think that? That you have to play a role for me?” I couldn’t hide the note of hurt.

McCarty hesitated, and then said honestly, “A little. We’re from very different worlds, and I’m here in your world now and sometimes that’s hard. Sometimes it feels like I’m doing nothing but playing pretend.”

“Sometimes it’s like that for me too,” I said slowly, hardly believing that I was daring to give voice to what felt like a betrayal of my perfect life. “I’m pretending to be what they want. I might do it well, but that doesn’t mean it’s really me.”

“What happens if you don’t play their game?” McCarty wanted to know. “What happens if you say ‘stuff the lot of you’ and do whatever you want?”

I laughed. “My parents would be so disappointed! Royce’s parents would be horrified, and Royce would be…” I bit my lip hard. Royce would be _Royce_ , and I would come to regret any rebellion there.

McCarty was watching me closely, his eyes troubled, and I was suddenly afraid of the closeness. Afraid of what he was seeing in me, afraid of the feelings that were being stirred up in me by both our conversation and the very close physical proximity of him. I was married, I was about to be a mother…how could I be questioning things like this? How could I let this uneducated man, my _driver_ , make me second guess everything I’d ever striven for? How could I be looking at him and feeling my heart pound and my breath quicken just because of the way he moved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Well, a few home truths there have got Rosalie feeling all very confused! She’s definitely starting to see Emmett and what he means to her more clearly, but she’s also very committed to her marriage and, especially now with a baby on the way, wants to make it work.   
> And some Dr Carlisle in there too…he was the only other Cullen I could realistically fit in to this story. I love the idea that he’s a vampire and Rosalie has no idea… He’s using his vampire skills in this chapter, since fetoscopes (an instrument used by midwives and doctors to detect foetal heartbeat before dopplers were invented) are usually not effective until around twenty weeks, which is halfway through pregnancy. But I wanted him to discover Rosalie’s bruises and make her at least think about the fact that what Royce is doing to her isn’t acceptable to anyone.   
> Thanks for all comments, reviews and notes- I love talking about the story and appreciate every one who takes the time!


	16. An Emergency

_Dear Ma, I’m not so sure about this job anymore. I like the work, but everything is kind of messed up here. The man I’m working for is not a good man. He doesn’t do anything to me, but I think he treats her badly and now that she’s having a baby…_

Sighing heavily, I crumpled the paper in my hand. How could a letter, full of my scrawling, untidy handwriting and misspellings, ever make Ma understand how it was here?

And what did I want her to do? Tell me to quit and come home? The thought of home made my heart ache with how much I wanted to be there with them, but the thought of leaving here, of leaving _her_ , made a rushing wave of panic rise up within me.

I couldn’t leave her.

No matter how much I railed against myself, no matter how often I called myself a stupid fool for it, berating myself with the fact that she was married and was not, _could_ not be mine, I could not bring myself to leave Rosalie.

My eyes drifted over towards the conservatory. From where I was sitting with my back against the trunk of an oak tree in the yard, I could clearly see Rosalie asleep on the chaise inside. She’d taken to napping there of an afternoon, as sleek and contented as a cat in the sun. Even as I watched she stirred and stretched, the rounded bump of her belly showing against the taut fabric of her dress, before she settled back into slumber.

For a minute, knowing there was no one else about, I let my guard down and allowed myself to just look at her. _So beautiful._ Relaxed in sleep, Rosalie glowed with good health, her cheek pillowed on her hand and her hair spread across the chaise.

She was happy with her growing belly. Occasionally I saw her lay a hand over it when she thought no one was there to see, and her face would grow even more beautiful with a look of tender anticipation.

It hadn’t seemed to change anything with her husband though. Oh, he was happy about the baby, the son and heir he assumed was going to arrive as demanded. The very day after Rosalie told him a team of decorators arrived at the house to begin transforming a space on the upper floor into a nursery; and even I noticed the emerald pendant that appeared on Rosalie’s neck later that day.  But the pregnancy didn’t seem to do anything to stop the careless cruelty of Royce King that I was sometimes witness to in the car, nor to alter the frequency of the arguments that could be overheard in the house. Perhaps the only change was that Royce began to spend more time out with his friends of an evening, and I spent many long and boring hours waiting outside clubs and bars for him.

Seeing him enter the conservatory late that afternoon, I looked over at him with interest, even as I sank a little deeper into the shadow. I wasn’t skiving off work, sitting here and trying to write to my Ma, I was just having my regular break, but I wanted to avoid him.

I couldn’t help frowning though, as I watched him lean over Rosalie and shake her shoulder harder than I thought necessary. She jerked back into wakefulness, sitting up immediately and shaking herself awake.

Royce was clearly annoyed about something. I knew I shouldn’t be watching them, that it wasn’t any of my business, but I didn’t turn my eyes away as he towered over her with a dark and angry face and snarled at her. Rosalie shook her head and I could see her speaking rapidly, but Royce refused to be mollified and the two of them left the conservatory still in some disagreement.

I gathered up my notepad, pencil and the plate that had had my sandwich and made my way back to the kitchen, where Miss Ellen and two other helpers were preparing for a dinner party to be held that evening.

“Emmett, put your plate down over by the sink,” Miss Ellen told me. “Then you can have one of the little pastries over on the side counter and tell me what you think.” She gave me a wink, and I laughed as I helped myself.

“Very good,” I told her with my mouth full.

“Excellent. We don’t want anything to go wrong tonight,” she told me, with a sideways look at the help to make sure they weren’t paying attention.

“Trouble?” I asked, not letting on about what I’d seen in the conservatory.

Miss Ellen frowned. “There are important guests coming this evening, apparently. Mr King was a little…unhappy that Mrs King was sleeping instead of preparing.”

I stuffed another pastry in my mouth to stop myself from saying something that might get me in trouble.

“You need to go and wash up,” Miss Ellen directed me. “I’ve got too much to do here to greet the guests so you can put on your good suit and act as butler.” She eyed me critically. “Fingernails too please Emmett.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

Feeling oddly disgruntled I went back to my room and scrubbed until my skin was pink, doing what I could to flatten my hair - which was admittedly not much – and then shrugging into the monkey suit. Ready for butler duties.

Back in the house Miss Ellen insisted on retying my tie and then approved of my appearance and sent me through to the front hall. I could hear Royce and Rosalie upstairs, the angry tones turning into words as they left their room and came closer.

“But Royce…”

“These are important people, Rosalie! I need you tonight!” Royce sounded agitated.

“Okay, fine!” Rosalie snapped.

“I mean it Rose! Don’t sulk…this is your job as my wife, so damn well do it!”

The conversation, if it could be called that, cut off as they came in sight of me although I kept my head averted and pretended I’d heard nothing.

“McCarty, bring them in to the main drawing room as they arrive,” Royce ordered, heading that way himself.

A few steps behind him, Rosalie gave me a brief smile. As always when she dressed up she looked as glamorous as a film star, but as she stepped off the bottom of the stairs she seemed to sway for a brief moment. Concerned, I reached towards her.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?”

For a moment I felt her hand on my forearm, her fingers gripping hard enough to dig into my skin and actually hurt, but she smiled at me airily and said, “Of course McCarty. I’m fine.”

She wasn’t though. I could tell her skin was white beneath the makeup, and her violet eyes seemed curiously dull. But she carried herself tall and as I showed the guests into the formal drawing room she greeted them with perfect poise and grace.

I announced when dinner was ready, and the guests who had been milling around or sitting and drinking cocktails all began to gather themselves together and move towards the dining room. As always I looked for Rosalie, easily finding her golden hair and beautiful face no matter how big the crowd. So it was that I saw her stand up, saw the whitening of her already pale face, and saw the almost graceful arc of her fall as she fainted.

“Rosalie!”

I shouted for Miss Ellen, and then without care as to whether it was my place to do so I not, I shouldered my way through the crowd until I could drop to my knees by her side.

“It’s just a faint, no cause for alarm,” Royce was reassuring the guests, one hand laid uselessly on Rosalie’s forehead.

“Sir,” I said quietly. “I don’t think it’s just a faint.”

I nodded behind him and Royce turned his head, his swarthy face taking on a greenish hue and his mouth curled in distaste as he saw the blood stain on the chair Rosalie had been sitting on. As I gently lifted her head I saw that there was already blood on the floor where she had fallen, drops soaking into the furry cream rug and ruining it.

“For Christ’s sake,” he muttered.

“She needs the hospital.” Miss Ellen said decisively, appearing at my shoulder and taking in the situation at a glance. “That much blood…she might be losing the baby, poor lamb, and there’s no time to waste here. Emmett, run for the car right away. Mr King, I’ll see to the guests if you’d like to go along to the hospital with her.”

“Right.” Royce rose to his feet and said sharply, “Thank you. McCarty, I’ll get the car and you bring Mrs King out to the front.”

Without waiting for an answer he disappeared. Ignoring the concerned squawking and muttering of the guests as Miss Ellen guided them firmly from the room, I slid my arms underneath Rosalie and scooped her up into my arms.

She was so light! Rosalie had always seemed to have such a strong and indomitable personality that I never thought of her as fragile, but slumped unconscious in my arms, my face lolling against my shoulder, there was a heartbreaking frailty about her. She whimpered momentarily, violet eyes opening and blearily meeting mine.

“McCarty…” she murmured, “The baby…”

“It’s all right,” I said to her comfortingly, having no idea if it was or not. “It’s all right…you just fainted, and we’re going to take you to the hospital okay? They’ll be able to tell you about the baby.”

I could feel the wetness of her blood soaking into my shirt as I held her against me, and I prayed that what I was saying was true and that she was all right. But I remembered the last time my mama had been carrying a baby and had started bleeding, and I shuddered. _Please don’t let that happen to Rosalie._

Royce had brought the car around to the front of the house as I came swiftly out the door and down the steps, carrying Rosalie as gently as possible.

“Get in the back,” he ordered impatiently. “It’ll be easier if I drive…has she come round yet?”

“Not yet,” I murmured, sliding awkwardly into the back seat with Rosalie still cradled in my arms. The role reversal was disorienting as I looked from Rosalie’s limp form lying across my lap to the back of Royce’s head as he drove furiously through the night.

The hospital wasn’t busy when I carried Rosalie inside. A nurse ushered us into a private room and I reluctantly lay Rosalie down on the bed. I didn’t want to let her go, not when I could see blood blooming like flowers on her gold dress, in stark contrast to her pallid face and bloodless lips. But she wasn’t mine, and all I could do was surreptitiously touch her hand with mine before I backed away, leaving the room as the tall blond doctor entered.

I stayed in the waiting room with Royce, since no one had told me to do otherwise. Royce paced and smoked, while I sat silent and still in a corner of the room, staring at the blood on my shirt and jacket as it darkened and stiffened as it dried. _Rosalie’s blood._

_Please be okay._

I was surprised by the strength of my feelings. I had known that I cared for Rosalie, that there was something about her that drew me to her even as my own good sense held me at a distance, but I hadn’t know how deep those feelings ran. Not until I sat there, smelling her blood on my clothes and remembering the look of her white, unconscious face tipped back over my arm and feeling bereft, did I realise how far I’d fallen.

“Mr King?” It was a long time before the door opened and the white-coated doctor came in. He was looking grave, but he smiled at Royce in a way that eased the knot of tension in my throat. He wouldn’t look like that if she were dead.

Royce’s dark brows lowered. “Yes, doctor?”

“We’re not sure what caused the haemorrhage, but the bleeding has stopped now. Your wife lost a lot of blood, but she’s resting comfortably for the moment…”

“The baby,” Royce cut in without preamble. “What about him?”

“The baby is fine for the moment,” Dr Cullen said cautiously. “As I said, the bleeding has stopped, and I was able to hear the heartbeat with the fetoscope so we know the baby has not passed away. But that kind of bleeding is not normal in pregnancy and without knowing the cause we can’t make any predictions as to the future.”

“I want that baby,” Royce said flatly. “Whatever can be done, do it.”

“We’re doing everything we can for the baby _and_ for your wife,” Dr Cullen said pointedly. “Rosalie will need to stay here for the next several days at least, but for now she is stable.”

“I’ll be off then, since there’s nothing more I can do now,” Royce said briskly. “Thank you doctor, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome to go and have a word with Rosalie before you go.” The doctor suggested. “She may not be asleep yet.”

Royce shook his head dismissively. “No, I’ll let her rest. I’ll have some of her things brought over tomorrow, since she’ll be staying. McCarty, let’s go.”

Royce was well out into the corridor, striding quickly towards the exit when I reached the doctor. I knew I should just follow him, that he’d be waiting for me, but I stopped by the doctor instead.

“Is she …is she going to be okay?”

Dr Cullen gave me a slightly curious smile. “I hope so.”

Royce was waiting impatiently by the car as I got there, and I hurried to open the door for him. “Home now, sir?”

“No, it’s still early.” Royce stretched out in the back seat and yawned widely. “Take me to Morrigan’s.”

 _What the hell?_ He’d just left Rosalie in hospital in an incredibly delicate condition, and he wanted to go out drinking and gambling at one of the seediest clubs he frequented? But he was smoothing a hand through his hair and straightening his tie, and I knew I couldn’t say anything. Sighing inwardly, I drove him downtown.

Waiting that night was harder than normal. I kept thinking of Rosalie, of the way her body had felt so soft pressed against mine when I held her in my arms. I kept thinking of the blood that still stained my clothes, and the way the earthy, coppery scent of it lingered in my nostrils. I wished I was with her, holding her hand and watching over her as she slept.

Royce came staggering drunkenly back to the car eventually. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that he had a girl under his arm, giggling tipsily as Royce openly fondled and kissed her.

“The door, McCarty?” he slurred when I failed to jump to attention.

I wanted to hit him. My hands tingled with my fierce desire to bunch them into fists and smash the cocky grin off his face. I wanted him to bleed as much as Rosalie had been bleeding. I wanted to tell the girl with him to run back to her friends and stay far, far away from the kind of man that Royce King was, that he could do this to his wife while she lay in hospital.

But of course, I couldn’t do any of that. Because all it would lead to was me losing my job, and losing the money that I had been sending home and that I know they found such a help. Because if I lost my job I lost Rosalie, and as hard as it was to be near her and yet so far from her, it was better than having none of her.

So I opened the car door for Royce and the girl to slide inside, and I bit my lip so hard it bled as I drove them home and listened to what was going on in the back seat. At home Royce took her inside, and I went and parked the car in the garage. My day was finished, but I sat for a long time with my head bent forward over the steering wheel, my face pillowed on my arms and nothing but bleakness in my heart.


	17. A Betrayal

I ran a brush slowly through the long ends of my hair. It seemed to be growing faster than normal during the pregnancy, and was thicker and more glorious than ever. I finished brushing and twisted it into a knot at the nape of my neck, and was just adding the last pins when there was a knock at the door and Dr Cullen came in.

“Good morning Rosalie,” he greeted me warmly.

“Good morning Dr Cullen,” I smiled back. During the ten days I’d spent in hospital I had grown to like the quiet, serious doctor.

He picked up my chart, although he didn’t look at it as he said to me, “How would you feel about going home today?”

“Yes, please!”

He laughed at my eagerness. “Tired of the hospital, are we?”

I ducked my face and laughed too. “A little bit,” I admitted. “Everyone has been so kind and taken such good care of me, but I’d rather be at home.”

“Well, there’s no reason to keep you here any longer,” Dr Cullen said. “We don’t know what caused the bleed, but you’ve had no further issues and the baby’s heartbeat continues to be strong and healthy.”

“Will you listen again today?”

“Of course, if you’d like me to.”

“Yes please.” I gained a great deal of security out of the daily ritual of Dr Cullen placing the cold fetoscope on my belly and reassuring me that he could still hear the heartbeat, strong and steady.

Dr Cullen sat on the bedside chair. “If I may…” he murmured, folding back the blankets and lifting my nightgown over the growing swell of my belly. His cool fingers gently probed the shape of my uterus and then he placed the cold metal of the fetoscope against the skin, almost immediately smiling at me.

“There it is…you’ve got a strong, healthy baby in there Rosalie. Whatever the bleed was, I don’t think it’s had any effect on his or her development. Sometimes these things just happen.” His fingers began to beat a tattoo on my bare hip. “That’s the heartbeat, that’s the rhythm of it.”

A smile crept over my face. _So fast!_ “I’m so glad the baby is okay.” There were no words for the terror I had felt when I had awoken in the hospital after all that bleeding, not knowing what had happened to the baby.

“I wanted to talk to you though Rosalie.” Dr Cullen pulled down my nightgown and raised the blankets back over my thighs, patting them into place. “You and the baby both seem in fine shape, and I’m happy for you to go home. You must rest, take it very easy and of course, at the slightest hint of pain or bleeding you must come straight back. But hopefully this incident was just one of those things, and you’ll be fine from now on.”

I nodded. Lying in bed was boring, but if it was what the baby needed then I would stay there for months if it came to that.

“But I saw the bruises when you came in, and I can’t say nothing,” Dr Cullen said to me gently, watching me with his peculiar golden eyes.

I shook my head. “Please don’t,” I said wretchedly.

“It’s important Rosalie. Violence within marriage is never acceptable, but while you’re pregnant it’s more dangerous than ever. I know that he has hurt you…”

“Royce will never hurt the baby,” I said with conviction. “He wants this child, and he will do nothing that puts that in jeopardy.”

“But any time he hurts you he _does_ put the baby at risk,” Dr Cullen countered.

I shook my head again. “I understand what you’re saying, but you must understand my position too…he’s my husband and this is the way it is. His father has the city lawmakers in his back pocket and probably half the police force too. There are expectations, Dr Cullen, and when I married Royce I agreed to live up to them. The occasional…unpleasantness…is apparently part of the deal.”

Dr Cullen’s voice was soft. “But he’s not living up to his end of the bargain if he hurts you.”

I sighed, suddenly exhausted. “Maybe. But there isn’t anything I can do. And it’s better now that I’m pregnant. He won’t do anything that might harm the baby, and now that you’ve said we can’t…sleep together, because of the bleeding, well that will make things better too. It’s going to be fine Dr Cullen, really it is. I don’t want to discuss it any further.”

He didn’t look happy, but thankfully he didn’t press the issue. “Very well Rosalie. I’d like to see you quite frequently in any case, simply to keep an eye on things. But as long as you rest and take care of yourself, I think we can hope for an uneventful few months and a healthy baby at the end of it.”

I nodded. “That’s all I want.”

Dr Cullen left to continue on his rounds, and I called for a nurse to help me arrange my discharge from the hospital. I was more than ready to leave when Royce appeared, smiling charmingly as he took me in his arms and kissed me.

“Hello darling! It will be wonderful to have you home again,” he exclaimed.

I smiled at him. “It will be so nice to be home!” I nodded at the suitcases packed and waiting ready by the door. “If you could carry those, I’ll manage the flowers.”

“McCarty!” Royce called, snapping his fingers at the suitcases as McCarty appeared in the room. “If you could carry Mrs King’s things, please.”

McCarty murmured his assent, but he wasn’t looking at Royce. I saw the quick glance he threw my way, the naked relief on his face that I was okay, and then the shadow of concern. More concern than Royce had ever shown about _me_ , and not the baby…

I pushed the thought away as I took Royce’s arm and the two of us followed McCarty’s broad back down the hallways and out of the hospital. Ten days in bed had left me feeling weak and wobbly, and I was relieved when we reached the car.

“Straight to bed?” Royce asked as we drew up at home.

I shook my head with a light laugh. “I don’t have to stay in bed. I need to rest and be careful, but Dr Cullen said he’s sure it’s going to be fine.”

“Well, you need to take care of my son,” Royce said teasingly, rubbing his hand along the curve of my belly. “He’s certainly growing in there…you’re getting quite fat.”

I pouted, but the truth was I didn’t mind the way pregnancy was changing my body. I loved the growing roundness of my belly, and my hair had never been so thick and shiny or my skin so soft and glowing. “I’ll be a lot fatter before it’s over,” I said ruefully.

“I’ll have to trade you in for a lovely, slender girl,” Royce joked, and I giggled and swatted at him.

“You’d better not!” I couldn’t help but notice the rigid set of McCarty’s shoulders as I glanced at the front of the car, and I thought perhaps he was embarrassed to be witness to this. I patted Royce on the chest and sat back in the seat for the rest of the journey.

I settled on resting on the chaise in the conservatory. It was comfortable, and I liked the sun and the plants, and being able to see McCarty working outside and the comings and goings from the kitchen. Royce saw me settled in and then went back to the office, and Ellen fussed around making me tea and tiny sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

“It’s like I’m a complete invalid,” I said to McCarty, unable to the hide the note of exasperation in my voice.

McCarty deposited the bunches of flowers that filled his arms on to the table beside me. “I got these from the car…and you really want to be careful ma’am.” His blue eyes were serious. “You need to take care of yourself and the baby.”

I blushed a little. “I know. But Dr Cullen said it’s healthy to do what I can.”

McCarty looked doubtful. “It was a lot of blood.”

I went even redder. “You saw?”

“I took you to the hospital.” McCarty rumpled his hair, looking awkward. “You were so…I wouldn’t like to think…I’m just glad that you’re okay,” he mumbled. “You and the baby both.”

My eyes suddenly burned with tears that I frantically blinked back before they could fall. This man, my _driver_ , had just shown more genuine concern and feeling for me in one mumbled sentence than my husband had in the whole ten days since my life had been in danger. Oh, Royce always _sounded_ like he was saying the right things, but there was an edge of insincerity to it that I had never really noticed until I was faced with the rock solid honesty of McCarty’s deep voice and steady blue eyes.

“Oh no, sweetheart, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry…aww Rosa…” McCarty went down onto his knees beside the chaise, fumbling in his pockets to withdraw a clean, crumpled handkerchief that he used to tenderly wipe my cheeks. “You can’t cry…you’re meant to be taking it easy! It’s all right Rosalie, it’s all right now…”

I took the handkerchief from him and pressed it over my eyes with shaking hands. I could hardly breathe. He was so close to me, and all I could think about was my own wild, desperate longing to reach out and touch him. I remembered suddenly the way it had felt, all those weeks ago, when he had held me while I sobbed on the floor in front of the fire. I knew I could not let him do it again. If he touched me like that, if I let myself go in front of him…I didn’t want to think about what might happen after that.

Taking a deep breath I wiped my eyes and gripped the handkerchief tightly as I looked at McCarty. “Thank you,” I said, and my voice was steady. “I’m fine. Just a little emotional…you know.”

“Oh, I know.” McCarty sat back on his heels for a moment and smiled at me humorously. “My Ma had five babies after me, as well as the loss, so for an unmarried man I’ve seen a lot of a woman in the family way and how emotional it can all get!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re very kind to me,” I said, with a faint note of surprise.

“Ahh, nothing more than you deserve ma’am,” McCarty said lightly, rising to his feet and rumpling his hair again. His eyes sparkled as he smiled at me. “I ought to be getting back to work now.”

Left alone I slept a little, and then had Ellen carry the record player in to the conservatory so I could listen to music. Even that palled a little after a time, especially since I couldn’t dance, and when I remembered a book I’d bought but not started to read, I rose to my feet and slowly climbed the stairs to the bedroom to look for it.

I found the book on my dresser, next to the china tray where I kept a random assortment of hairpins and earrings. Someone had tidied it while I was in the hospital, and I looked at the neat pairs of shiny things before I stopped, my heart thudding.

_They’re not mine._

For a moment I thought I had to be mistaken. Why would there be unfamiliar earrings on my tray? If Royce had bought them as a gift he would never just leave them like this for me to find, he would have presented them to me with a flourish for the praise and thanks. Besides, I thought as I picked them up with a shaking hand, these were made of cheap glass stones, nothing that Royce would ever buy for me…

“Ellen!” I shouted. “Ellen!”

She appeared in a moment, her face frightened, and for a moment I felt guilty. “It’s not the baby,” I hurried to say. “I’m fine…I just wanted to know about these earrings.”

Ellen’s face was instantly wary. “Ma’am?”

“Do you know how they got here?” I asked impatiently. I picked them up and showed them to her. “They’re not mine. Where did they come from?”

“I can’t be sure. Perhaps one of the girls dropped them while they were cleaning in here?” Ellen’s eyes blinked rapidly.

I knew she was lying, and there was only one reason for her to do so. At some point, while I had been gone, there had been another woman in my room. It could have as simple an explanation as one of the cleaning girls dropping her earrings, but Ellen’s obvious discomfort with my line of questioning indicated otherwise.

I turned away from her and stood at the window, staring out into the immaculate front yard. “Will you ask Royce to come up when he gets in, please?” I said tightly.

Jane did as I asked and, instead of going into the sitting room for a whiskey first thing, Royce came home and bounded straight up the stairs to our room. “Rosalie?”

“Would you care to explain this?” I snapped, showing him the earrings.

“Explain what?”

“How these earrings, which _are not mine_ , came to be in my bedroom?”

Royce blinked at me innocently. “I don’t know. Ellen? Maybe she had some extra help in to do the cleaning?”

“You _liar_!” I shouted. Viciously I threw the earrings across the room at him, where they hit him in the chest and then fell to the floor. “Do you think I’m an _idiot_? You had someone here, in my house…in my room!”

Royce groaned and threw up his hands. “Gosh Rosalie, there’s no need to get so upset!”

I stared at him, aghast. “No need to…Royce, you’ve cheated on me! I was in hospital, having complications with _your_ baby, and you thought bringing some other woman to MY home was a good idea!”

“Well, I didn’t think it was a _good_ idea,” Royce said with a sigh. “I didn’t really think a great deal at all, to be honest, I was rather drunk…”

“I can’t believe you’re taking this so casually!” I was incensed.

“Well really, Rosalie, what do you want me to do?” Royce sounded irritated. “I admit that bringing her here was unwise, and I won’t do that again but…”

“But nothing!” I shouted. “You won’t do it again at all, here or elsewhere!”

Royce was glaring at me now. “Calm down Rosalie. Dr Cullen was very clear with me that you’re off limits until the baby is born, and that’s still four months away. You can’t really expect me to…”

I was burning with rage. “You cannot justify cheating on me. The sheer _disrespect_ of bringing another woman into my house is outrageous! I can’t believe you would do that to me…” Unbidden, my voice broke and tears came to my eyes.

_Why don’t you love me like I want you to love me?_

“Oh Rose,” Royce sighed, coming over and trying to put his arms around me. “Why does it matter? You’re my wife, you’re carrying my son…what does it matter what I do with those whores?”

“Because it matters!” I shoved him hard in the ribs, pushing him away from me. “Because if you loved me you would care what I thought! Because we should be becoming a family, now that we’re having the baby, not…not…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Royce said in disgust. “I’m not staying here to be shouted at by some hysterical woman! Rosalie…either I have sex with you or I have sex with someone else, and quite frankly it’s not up to you to dictate. I don’t appreciate coming home to these accusations and criticisms either.”

“I hate you,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I hate you so much!”

Royce patted my head condescendingly. “You’ll get over it.”


	18. Flashpoint

_Dear Emmett, We haven’t heard from you very recently, and your last letter sounded as though there was something bothering you. Do you have something you want to talk about? We know things can be difficult for a young man away from his family for the first time and we hope you know that we are still here for you if ever you should need us. Take care of yourself and do what you know is right and you will be all right. Love always, your mother and father._

_Dear Emmett, come home! Your job is too long and I miss you too much! The Emmett kitten climbed a tree and got stuck on the roof and Will had to climb up and get him down! Stephen fell down on an ants’ nest and got bit all up! Tell Mrs Rosalie that Rosie is my favourite doll in all of the world and Mama knitted her a new dress and I made a bonnet from a handkerchief! Love from Elizabeth!_

I read Ma and Pa’s letter and sighed, and then read Elizabeth’s letter and chuckled to myself. She’d discovered punctuation, but seemed a little too fond of exclamation marks.

“News from home?” It was Rosalie, trailing listlessly into the kitchen where I was reading my letters and eating my supper. She came and sat opposite me at the table, and Miss Ellen hurried over to her.

“Are you hungry ma’am? I could do you something to eat, anything you’d like. There’s still some supper left over, and there’s an apple pie if Emmett didn’t eat the last of it.”

Rosalie gave a faint smile. “Just a cup of tea please.”

I couldn’t help looking at her in concern. She was dressed and made up and her hair done as carefully as ever, but in the days since she’d come home from the hospital she seemed to have lost her spark. Even from the garden I had heard more than one screaming match between her and Royce, but the rest of the time she drifted restlessly throughout the house, her face pale and her eyes ringed with shadows.

“I got a letter from Elizabeth, if you’d like to read it,” I offered, anxious to cheer her up. “She’s learned about punctuation now.”

It was good to see Rosalie laugh as she read the ink-blotted letter. “She’s so sweet; I’m glad she liked the doll. And they named a kitten Emmett?” She giggled.

I grinned at her. “There were four, so they named them after all of us who’ve left. John, Henry, Patrick and Emmett. I’m the grey stripy one.”

Rosalie was laughing properly now, and it was beautiful to see her face light up. “I always wanted a kitten, but Mother hates animals in the house.”

It was Miss Ellen’s night off and I knew she’d made plans with a friend to go to the cinema, but she hovered a little uncertainly by the table. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything ma’am?”

“I’m really fine,” Rosalie told her. “Go and enjoy your night off.”

Miss Ellen left after that, and Rosalie and I were alone. I finished the sausages and vegetables I’d had for my dinner and shared out the apple pie, pouring a generous serving of thick cream over the top.

“This is good.” Rosalie scooped up a heaping spoonful.

“It’s not as good as my Ma’s, but it’ll do nicely,” I said cheerfully, adding a moment later, “You should eat more.”

Rosalie made a face at me. “I haven’t been very hungry.”

“But with the baby you have to eat,” I said reasonably. “You have to take care of yourself.”

“I suppose I do,” Rosalie muttered viciously, “Since no one else is going to do it for me.”

There was a long and uncomfortable silence, before Rosalie licked the last of the cream off her spoon and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not your problem.”

I swallowed some more pie. “I’m sorry for it though,” I said frankly. “Whatever it is, I don’t like to see you sad.”

Of course I knew what it was. Miss Ellen and I both knew about the other woman that had been here, and the women that Royce continued to be seen with around town. But I didn’t want to embarrass Rosalie by speaking of it.

Rosalie stood up and walked restlessly around the kitchen. “I’ve just made such a mess of things,” she muttered.

I took the dirty bowls to the sink and then looked across at Rosalie. I couldn’t resist saying something then, the judgement clear in my voice. “I don’t think it’s _you_ who’s made a mess of things.”

“Oh Emmett, I wish…” Rosalie’s voice trailed away and she looked at me, her big violet eyes filled with so much hurt and sadness that I could do nothing but cross the room to her and take her into my arms.

_She used my name. For the first time ever, she called me by my name._

I was only going to hug her. It was all I would have done…she was married, she wasn’t mine, and I wouldn’t have compromised her by doing anything more than a simple, innocent embrace meant to comfort her.

Her husband didn’t see it that way.

I didn’t hear him come in. I didn’t hear him at all. All I heard was Rosalie’s scream and the sound Royce’s fist made smashing into the side of my head.

The hit had come out of nowhere and I fell hard, instinctively shielding my face as I skidded away and then scrambling to my feet. Rosalie screamed again, “Royce, don’t!” and I saw the way she seized his arm and was carelessly pushed away.

“Get the hell out,” Royce snarled at me. “You no-good piece of shit, take your things and get out of my house. I don’t ever want to see your fucking face again.”

I took a step towards him, my fists bunched and ready. I was furious, my vision blurred, all my rage focussed on my hands and my desire to use them to hurt him. I wanted to feel my fists on his face, feel bruising flesh and hard bone underneath them and know I was causing him pain, to make up for what he’d done to Rosalie.

I looked to her for a second, but it was enough. Her face was stricken, her eyes huge as she sought my eyes and shook her head. “Don’t Emmett. Don’t make it worse. Just go…please.” It was almost a whisper, but I heard it and I would do anything she asked.

I turned my back on the both of them, and left.

“Fuck!” Getting back to my room I swore and slapped my hand hard against the doorframe. “Fucking…fuck…fucking bastard!” I kicked the chair and sent it skidding across the room, the clothes I had tossed over the back of it falling to the floor.

Standing still I pressed my knuckles together hard, and took some deep breaths. I knew I had to calm down, but every time I thought of Rosalie’s unhappiness and Royce’s heartless treatment of her, as well as what he’d said to me the rage began to mount again.

Agitatedly I ran a hand through my hair, wincing slightly when I came to the tender spot where Royce had hit me. I wished I’d hit him back, but I hadn’t wanted to make anything worse for Rosalie.

I felt the anger drain away as I pictured her, and realised what all this meant. I’d been fired, I’d be going home to my family, and I’d never see her again.

_Oh, Rosalie, oh no, oh baby, no…_

Numbly I began to shove my clothes in my old duffel bag, careless of crumples and creases. What did any of that matter? I threw in the bundle of letters I’d kept and reread so often, the knife and half-whittled animals.

It was then I heard a noise in the garage. I swung around, my body braced defensively, and saw Royce glaring at me.

“I’m going out,” he said flatly. “And when I get back I want you gone. Understood?”

I stared at him stonily. “I’m going. And just so you know, nothing ever happened with me and Rosalie…not that you deserve a woman like her, you arrogant asshole.”

“Fuck you.” Royce disappeared, and a moment later I heard the roar of the car as he took off.

I took another deep breath and began throwing the last few things into my bag. Holy Christ, I hated him! But there was nothing I could do, nothing at all…

“Emmett.”

I almost thought I was hearing things, when the whisper reached my ears. Surely it couldn’t be…but I turned around and found Rosalie leaning against the doorjamb, pale and sweating, and all my other emotions were lost in a wave of love and concern.

“Sweet mother of mercy, what did he _do_ to you?” I was at her side in an instant, examining the bright red, swollen half of her face that was already beginning to turn purple and darken into bruises, all down one side of her face. “Oh Rosa-girl, no…”

Rosalie held out an arm, pressing it against my chest to hold me away from her. “ _You have to take me with you.”_

I stopped and stared at her helplessly. “Take you…home with me? To Tennessee?”

“I can’t stay here,” Rosalie spoke through clenched teeth. “I can’t live like this any more…please Emmett, please take me with you.” For a moment her rigid composure broke and I saw the vulnerability beneath.

“Okay,” I said recklessly, making up my mind in an instant. “I’ll take you with me.”

“Oh, thank you…” Rosalie’s pale face went even whiter and she swayed and pressed her face against the doorframe.

“Rosalie, what…oh shit.” Only then did I see her arm, with its grossly deformed elbow joint. “We need to take you to the hospital.”

Rosalie made some dissenting noises, but was in too much pain to argue. I threw my coat over her shoulders to keep her warm and then I went to the outbuilding where I kept my old car. My prayers were answered when it actually started without too much trouble, and helping Rosalie in to the front seat I drove it as slowly and smoothly to the hospital as I could.

By the time we got there Rosalie was shivering, despite the coat, and I thought maybe she was going into shock. Her face was looking bad, and I felt a sick dread when I looked at her round belly and thought about the baby, caught up in this. If he’d hurt Rosalie’s baby…

“I’m not going in.” Rosalie’s teeth were chattering. “Someone I know might see me. No one can know that Royce did this.”

Rather than argue, I bolted from the car and inside the hospital. I didn’t have any plan, but luck was on my side and one of the first people I saw was Dr Cullen who, to my surprise, remembered who I was.

“Mr McCarty? You work for the Kings, correct? How can I help you?”

“It’s not me,” I said. His presence was soothing, and I felt myself beginning to calm, my breath coming in slower and deeper. “It’s Rosalie…she’s out in the car.”

“The baby?” Dr Cullen said sharply.

“No,” I shook my head. “He…that fucker hurt her bad, doc. She doesn’t want anyone she knows to see her, but he’s broken her arm or something and there’s a lot bruising on her face.”

A look of furious rage crossed Dr Cullen’s face, so quickly I wasn’t even sure I’d seen it when he looked back at me with his usual serenity. “There’s a side door she can use. I’ll need to examine her immediately.”

I led him to the car, where Rosalie was leaning forward over her belly, clutching the deformed looking arm close to her body and breathing in shallow pants.

“Hello Rosalie, how about we take you inside and get you fixed up?” Dr Cullen’s voice was soft and soothing. “That looks very painful.”

“The baby…” Rosalie’s voice was a thin thread of pain, and tears began running down her cheeks. “Please make sure the baby is okay.”

“What happened? Were there any blows or knocks to your belly?” Dr Cullen leaned into the car and gently scooped Rosalie up in his arms. I followed silently beside him.

“No,” Rosalie whispered. “He hit me in the face and on my arms, and when I tried to get away he pushed me, and I fell. That’s when I hurt my arm.”

I opened the door Dr Cullen indicated and he carried Rosalie inside and into an examining cubicle. A nurse, looking curious, came in and asked Dr Cullen what she could do.

“Find me the fetoscope please,” Dr Cullen said absently. He had Rosalie on an examination bench and was gently palpating her arm. “Rosalie, you’ve dislocated your elbow. We’ll need to pop the bones back into place, but that will be straightforward once we’ve got some morphine to help with the pain.” His fingers probed the bruising on her face and head, and she jerked away from his touch. “These are painful, but will heal without intervention. Now, there’s nothing else? He didn’t hurt you anywhere else? Don’t shield him Rosalie, I need to know.”

Rosalie shook her head, her eyes still glimmering with tears. “No.”

“That’s good then.”

The nurse came back and she and Dr Cullen began preparing the syringe of painkilling drugs for Rosalie. Dr Cullen injected her into her arm, and in only a few moments Rosalie began to relax as the pain faded.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Good girl.” Dr Cullen patted her shoulder and then looked at me. “McCarty…”

“Emmett.”

“Emmett. Do you think you could help me here? It’s a simple job, but it’s a two person one and you look strong. The sooner it’s done the better. I need you to hold her arm while I manipulate the joint back in to place.”

I stood close by the side of the bed, holding Rosalie’s arm as carefully as I could to avoid the bruises while Dr Cullen worked on her. Rosalie turned her head to the side and pressed it into the pillow to muffle her screams- the morphine might have eased the pain but it hadn’t eliminated it. I was relieved when Dr Cullen had Rosalie’s arm looking normal again, and he laid it carefully across her chest.

“I’ll splint that and get you a sling,” he told her. “You’ll need to keep it still for a few days, and then begin gentle movements and it should heal well. It was a simple dislocation and we got it back into place fairly quickly, which will have helped minimise swelling and bruising. Now, I want to check on that baby.”

I was incredibly embarrassed when Dr Cullen pulled Rosalie’s dress up to bare her belly. I would have left, but she reached out her good arm and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. I saw the fear in her eyes and stood quietly, trying not to look at her long, stockinged legs and lace panties as Dr Cullen placed the metal fetoscope against her belly and began moving it around.

“And…there we go,” he murmured, his fingers beginning to tap out the rhythm of a baby heartbeat against Rosalie’s hip. “Strong and steady as ever.” He raised his face and looked at Rosalie sternly. “But Rosalie, you have been incredibly lucky. You fell with enough force to dislocate your elbow…if you had fallen on your stomach that could have been disastrous for the baby. We _must_ try and work out a plan to keep you safe.”

“I’m leaving.” Rosalie struggled to push down her dress and sit up, but Dr Cullen put a light hand on her shoulder to keep her lying down. “I’m leaving Royce.”

“Do you have somewhere to go?” Dr Cullen’s voice was soft with compassion. “Because I might be able to help…”

“I have somewhere to go.” Rosalie flashed an uncertain glance at me. “Somewhere far away, where he’ll never ever find me.”


	19. Running

The morphine left me feeling dazed and disconnected from the world. All I could focus on was McCarty’s big, strong hand wrapped around mine to hold me in reality.

“I’m taking her home with me,” McCarty said, and even I caught the note of uncertainty in his voice. “My Ma can look after her for a bit…but you mustn’t tell him, if he comes asking.”

“I know nothing,” Dr Cullen said with a faint smile. He was working quickly, splinting and bandaging my elbow. “But he’ll suspect it was you, if you both disappear.”

“He fired me,” McCarty said, adding defensively. “Nothing happened! I just…I hugged her because he upset her, and…well.”

“I understand how it was,” Dr Cullen murmured.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said drowsily. “I wouldn’t…even if I thought things…” I heard McCarty’s gentle chuckle and I looked up at him, feeling like I was swimming through a thick fog. “You never knew…how much I wanted…” I closed my eyes against a wave of dizziness.

“Keep the splint on for the next few days, and let her move it gently after that. It will heal well, but she’ll need to take care. The baby seems fine, and she’s had no more bleeding.” Dr Cullen touched my face. “Rosalie? Rosalie…wake up.”

“Hmm?” I forced my eyelids open.

“You can go now, but I want to make sure you’re happy to go with Emmett? I can help you if you would prefer to stay here in Rochester. I’ve documented the previous abuse, and I can help you speak with the police. My wife will help you too,” Dr Cullen said seriously.

I looked from his strange golden eyes over to McCarty’s blue ones, and I knew what I wanted to do. “I can’t stay here,” I said, my voice slurring a little with the drugs. “He’ll never give up…I want to go away.”

Dr Cullen nodded. “Very well. If you need me for anything, I’ll always be happy to help you. But your arm is set and there’s nothing else I can do for the bruising, so you’re free to go.”

He gave me a small packet of pills to take for pain, and since I didn’t have my purse McCarty slipped them into his pocket and took my good arm. “Come on sweetheart…ma’am…let’s go.”

There was a brisk night breeze outside that helped shake a little of the morphine fog from my brain. As we reached McCarty’s car I looked at the rusted metal a little doubtfully.

“This actually drives?”

“We’re not all fortunate enough to be driving Cadillacs,” he replied lightly. “And you’d better hope it drives, because it’s a long way to Tennessee on foot.”

“We have to go home first,” I said slowly, lowering myself gingerly into the car, wincing as I bumped my elbow.

McCarty looked at me doubtfully. “If he’s there…”

“He won’t be home yet, I’m sure of it. And I need some things, I can’t run away without…”

“Rosalie,” McCarty broke in, “You know that this is serious, right? If we go back and he’s there then I’ll kill him, or he’ll kill me, and god knows what he would do to you. We can’t afford to spend hours gathering up your things, and they won’t fit in the car in any case.”

“I know that,” I said, although in truth I hadn’t thought of it until then. “But a change of clothes at least…”

“We’ll see if he’s there,” McCarty said after a pause, and I agreed.

I was right though, and Royce wasn’t there. I was fairly certain he’d gone out drinking and wouldn’t be home until early the next morning, but even so there was something about being in the house that terrified me.

“Come on,” I said anxiously. “A suitcase with some clothes, that’s all I need.”

In my room McCarty yanked the sheet off the bed and threw a bunch of clothes from the wardrobe on to it. He went to the dresser and a few handfuls of stockings and underwear and nightwear were tossed on top. A coat, a couple of sweaters and a spare pair of shoes, and then he tied the corners in knots to make a big bundle. “We’re done,” he muttered, “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

I snatched up my purse, and went to leave after him. All the jewels, the fur coats, the fancy and elaborate gifts Royce had given me…I didn’t want it then. I didn’t want anything to remind me of him. But at the last minute I ran back and took the sapphire set that my parents had given me for my eighteenth birthday and dropped it into my purse. I would take those.

I saw my face as we hurried through the front hall. The large mirror there caught my reflection and for a moment I stopped and stared at it with a wordless cry. My beautiful face…

“It will heal,” McCarty said quietly, stopping by my side as his eyes met mine in the mirror. “It’s just swelling and bruising…it will heal like it never happened.”

“Let’s go McCarty,” I said softly, turning away. “Let’s go.”

“Sure,” he said, swinging the bundle of all my possessions over his shoulder. “But if you’re coming away with me there’s one thing you’ve got to do for me…”

“What?” I demanded, instantly suspicious. Surely I hadn’t judged his character so wrongly? He couldn’t possible mean…

He grinned at me boyishly. “You’ve got to call me by my name. Not McCarty…Emmett. I want you to call me Emmett.”

I suddenly laughed, and felt my spirits lift, just a little. “Okay then, Emmett. But that means you have to call me Rosalie.”

“It’s a deal.” And he gently shook my good hand, and opened the car door for me like he had always done.

We drove through the night. Exhausted and in pain I didn’t speak, and after making a few remarks Emmett fell silent too. Later I slept, waking with my arm aching and tears streaking my face. Emmett pulled over and fed me pain pills, and then I curled up in the corner of the seat and tried to sleep again.

_I’ve run away from my husband. I’m pregnant, penniless, and I’ve run away with my driver…what are people going to THINK?_

Early in the morning, as the sky lightened from grey to pink, Emmett pulled the car off the road, parking in the shade of an oak tree growing by a stream.

“I’ve got to sleep,” he yawned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t drive for another second without a break.” With a groan he hauled himself out of the car and stretched, before he sank down onto the sparse grass at the base of the tree. “I’ll just have a little shut-eye,” he mumbled, almost instantly falling into a light sleep.

For a little while I just watched him. He was sprawled out on his back, his arms folded over his eyes, his lips parted slightly. I was surprised that he could sleep so peacefully on the hard and uneven ground.

Eventually I rose from the car and picked my way gingerly down the slope to the stream, where I crouched down and let my fingers trail in the water. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard something rustling in the grass on the other bank, but it was just a rabbit, who saw me and disappeared underground almost instantly.

Uneasy, I stood up and peered around me. Emmett had stopped in the middle of nowhere. There was the road and the stream, and then nothing but fields and trees as far as I could see. Frightened by the sheer size and emptiness of it all, I hurriedly made my way back closer to Emmett.

He woke easily, stretching and yawning and smiling at me sleepily, in a way that made me long to stroke the dark curls away from his face. But I kept my distance, and simply smiled as he sat up and ran his own hand through his hair.

“I guess you’re hungry and thirsty,” Emmett said a little awkwardly. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything…I didn’t really plan this. There’ll be a town soon enough and we can buy something.”

I nodded silently. Suddenly, out here, the two of us alone felt so awkward!

“I want to talk to you before we go any further,” Emmett said resolutely. “You must know what you’re getting yourself into, and know that you can go back right now if you don’t want it.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered. Didn’t he want me to go with him anymore?

“I am who I am, Rosalie,” Emmett said slowly, and I saw the vulnerability on his face. “I’m a poor man, and I’ve nothing much to offer you. My family will share what they have with you, but it will be nothing like you’ve been used to. We live in a four roomed shack on a little patch of land a good hike outside of town, and you’ll have to make do just like everyone else.” He looked at me steadily. “If you don’t want to do that, I’ll turn around and drive you back to Rochester now. Not to him, because you won’t be safe there, but your parents or your friend…”

Slowly, I shook my head. What he was saying frightened me, I couldn’t imagine the life of poverty he was talking about, but the idea of Rochester frightened me more. The prospect of a life without Emmett in it…

“I don’t want to go back to Rochester,” I said, my voice low. “He has too much power and influence there. Even my parents…I’m not sure that they’d help me. They would think me a disgrace for running away, and would try and make me go back to him. _Everyone_ would try and make me go back with him. But you know what he’s like…” My skin prickled. “He’ll never forgive me for leaving with you, even if I were to go back.”

“I know,” Emmett said simply. “But I want you to be sure. You’re giving up a lot by running, and you need to understand that.”

I looked down at my hands. “I do.”

I understood what I was losing: The wealth and position in society that I’d been working towards all my life; the self-assurance that being the beautiful Rosalie Hale King gave me; the fulfilment of all those girlish hopes….

_The violence. The humiliation. The pain. The uncertainty. The fear._

And what would I gain in return? I couldn’t be certain. Would Emmett’s family really be willing to take me in as one of their own? Would there be a home, a warm place in a family for my baby and myself?

Emmett. What was going to happen there? I had run with him, trusting him as my friend to help me find a place and keep me safe, but there was something else beyond friendship there. Something I had never dared to confront, caught up as I was in the tangled, sticky web of my marriage.

“I don’t want to go back to Rochester,” I repeated, stronger this time. “Whatever happens after this…it has to be better than that.”

“Well, let’s get going then,” Emmett said cheerfully, giving a final yawn and jumping to his feet. Solicitous of my hurt arm, he helped me gently up. “We’ll stop at the next town for some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

It was a hard drive. The car was nowhere near as comfortable as what I was used to, and each bounce and jolt shot bolts of pain through my splinted elbow. My face throbbed, my skin hot and tight over the swollen bruises, and as the day wore into evening and exhaustion claimed me, I couldn’t always stop the traitorous tears from dribbling down my cheeks.

It was dark when Emmett turned the car off into the parking lot of a brightly lit motel.

“We’ll stop here,” he said, a little regretfully. “You look done in, and I guess you can’t really just sleep in the car like I can, not with the baby and your arm and all.” Much to my surprise, he reached over and laid gentle fingers against the bruises on my face. “You look like it hurts pretty bad.”

All I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms and weep with pain and exhaustion, but I forced a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

“Tough girl,” Emmett teased, and I found myself laughing. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go.”

The clerk who booked us into the motel looked fascinated. Between my obvious injuries, the enormous engagement ring and wedding band I realised I still had on my finger, Emmett’s bare hands and overbearing size I have no idea what he thought of us.

Emmett seemed oblivious, chewing his lower lip anxiously as he counted out money from a little stack of notes he had in his shirt pocket. It wasn’t until it was done and we were walking to the room with the key that I realised that I probably had three times as much cash as that in my purse and I could have offered to pay.

The room was small and ugly, but at least it was clean. Not that I noticed anything when the door opened but the double bed, which dominated the tiny room.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Emmett said quickly, obviously thinking the same thing I was. “You can wash up in the bathroom and I’ll go to the car and get your things.”

I did as he suggested, blushing bright red when he returned with the bundle of my clothes and untied the knots, spilling shirts and underwear out on the bed.

Emmett’s ears went red, and he ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. “I’ll just go into the bathroom…you can get changed and uh…get into bed.”

Undressing with one arm splinted had me nearly screaming with frustration by the time I had my dress off. Not sure how I would ever manage to get my bra and slip back on the following day if I took them off, I just left them on and tugged my nightgown on over the top. I waited until I was in bed with the blankets pulled up to my chin before I awkwardly called out to Emmett that he could come out of the bathroom.

“Here,” he said, standing beside me and gently laying a washcloth soaked with cold water on my battered face. “It will make it feel better.”

He was right. The cold turned the hot throbbing into a duller ache and I smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you.”

Emmett gave me a dimpled smile and then disappeared from view, stretching out on the floor to sleep. I put my hands over the mound of my belly and closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me and put an end to this long, pain filled, confusing day.

But before it did, I felt it. A small but unmistakeable kick against the side of my womb. A tiny little sign that meant the world, because my baby was still going strong despite the storm outside.


	20. Homecoming

The floor was hard and smelled funny, but I was so tired I didn’t even care. I was half asleep before my eyes were closed, and I would have dropped off immediately if I hadn’t heard Rosalie’s voice through the dimness.

“Emmett?”

“Yeah?”

“What if he comes after me? What if he tries to do something?”

I yawned. “He won’t.”

“But if he _does_?”

I realised that she was genuinely scared. “I’m not going to let him do anything to you. I promise.” I rolled over onto my hands and knees and crawled two feet across the floor before lying back down with a thump. “Look, I’m sleeping in front of the door. He can’t get in. And we’ll be home by tomorrow night, and if he found you there my Pa would have him shot, skinned and gutted in five minutes…my Pa won’t stand for anyone hurting a woman.”

“What will they think of me?” Rosalie said uncertainly. “Your family…what will they say about me leaving my husband and running away like this?”

“They’ll understand,” I said with conviction. “They’ll see that there wasn’t really any other choice, and they’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you.”

 Rosalie slept after that, but she was a restless sleeper that night and for a long time I lay awake, listening to her toss and turn and hearing all her little whimpers and moans. For a moment I thought wildly about getting up on the bed with her and holding her, just to soothe her, but I knew how crazy an idea that was. Even when she cried in her sleep I could do nothing by lie silently, bearing witness to her pain and wishing I could change it.

It made me wonder what would happen between Rosalie and I once we reached Tennessee. Had she come away with me because it was me, or would she have fled with anyone who happened by and offered her sanctuary? Certainly she liked and trusted me but was it, could it ever be, more than that? Was it even possible for her to feel for me the way I felt for her in my heart?

I fell asleep late and woke first in the morning, stiff after a night spent on the hard floor. Rosalie was curled up on her side, her sleeping face peaceful, and I left her that way as I quietly left the room in search of some breakfast.

Rosalie was awake and dressed when I returned, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom and wrestling with her hair, trying to comb it out with the fingers of her good hand. She had always worn it up and I was amazed to see how long and beautiful it was as it hung in rippling waves down her back.

“My face is awful!” she said in irritation. “How can I go anywhere looking like this? And I can’t even do my hair with this stupid splint on my arm, even if I _did_ have a hairbrush, which I _don’t_!”

I put the two bottles of milk and the loaf of bread I had bought down on the bedside table and went across to her. “I can’t do anything about you looking like you’ve been in a prize fight,” I said shyly, “But I can help with your hair, if you’d like.”

Rosalie raised her eyebrows at me, and I dimpled back at her. “Remember, I always had to help with my little sisters…if I can do braids on a wiggling three year old I can probably manage you.”

Rosalie’s temper melted away in the face of her laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t throw your hairbrush in when I got your things,” I said hesitantly, wondering what else Rosalie would be missing before the day was out. I worked my fingers gently through Rosalie’s tousled hair, untangling and smoothing it out as best I could before I divided it up and began to braid.

“I should have thought of it,” Rosalie fretted. “I should have thought of so many things! I didn’t bring any of my toiletries, or anything I have for the baby.”

“We’ll sort it out,” I said reassuringly. “We’ll be home by tonight.” Right then I couldn’t wait to be at home, to tell my Ma and Pa what was going on and ask them what the hell I was supposed to do now.

It was a slow drive. The car engine sounded worse and worse as we drove along, and with Rosalie there I had to stop and find proper bathrooms instead of just stopping on a deserted stretch of road. We drank the milk and ate the bread for breakfast, stopped at a hotel for lunch, and then stopped twice more for Rosalie to be sick, which made her so embarrassed she could barely bring herself to look at me afterwards. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so relieved as I was when we finally began bumping down the dirt road towards home.

It was late, the night shadows dark with only a quarter moon lighting the land. But it was enough to see home, standing solid and welcoming with a faint light shining from the living room.

“We’re home,” I said reverently. “Come on, let’s go inside and say hi.”

I was almost to the porch when I heard a thumping noise coming from the open window of my Ma and Pa’s room, and a moment later Elizabeth’s head popped out from between the curtains. For a few seconds she just stared at me, flabbergasted, before she scrambled out over the sill and launched herself off the edge of the porch and into my arms.

“Emmett! You came home!”

“Hey trouble,” I said, giving her my usual greeting over the lump in my throat.

“I’m not trouble, YOU are!” she returned gleefully.

I laughed as she giggled, and we rubbed noses before she looked over my shoulder and saw Rosalie, and turned shy.

“Who’s that lady?” she whispered, wrapping sturdy little arms around my neck and peeking at Rosalie.

“That’s Miss Rosalie,” I told her. “You should say hi.”

But Elizabeth just shook her head and ducked her face into my neck. I laughed gently and patted her back. “This is Elizabeth, Rosalie. But she’s feeling kind of shy right now…oh, Ma!”

Standing on the porch, wrapped in her woollen robe and with her hair in the long braid that hung down to her thighs was my mother, her hands over her mouth and her eyes shining as she looked at me. Without a word she held out her arms and I bounded up the steps to her, holding Elizabeth on one hip so I could wrap my free arm around her and hug her. “Oh Ma…I missed you so much!”

“Oh Em…welcome back! But what happened? I didn’t know you were…who is that you’ve got with you?”

“That’s Rosalie.” I beckoned her forward and Rosalie stepped over to the porch and looked up at us.

“Good evening Mrs McCarty, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Lord…child…” Looking at Rosalie my mother seemed more flustered than usual. Not that surprising really, considering that in the light spilling from the door behind us Rosalie’s bruises could be seen quite clearly, the rounded belly of her pregnancy also obvious.

“Heavens above Emmett! You couldn’t have written to warn us you were coming? Never mind that now,” she said, holding her hand up as I opened my moth to protest, “Come inside and I’ll get us all a cup of tea and we can talk. Elizabeth, go and get your daddy and tell him to put his trousers on.”

I let Elizabeth down and she scampered off to the bedroom, while I held out a hand to Rosalie and helped her up the steps onto the porch. I could feel the tension humming through her body, and I gently rubbed her shoulder.

“Don’t be scared. We’re home, and it’s all going to be okay now.”

At least I hoped it was going to be okay. Pa’s face, when he came out of the bedroom was thunderous as he stomped to the kitchen and filled the kettle. Ma led Rosalie out the back to the outhouse, and I sat quietly at the table with Elizabeth in my lap. She’d flat out refused to go back to bed, and I hoped her presence would keep my father calm and with a bit of restraint over his tongue!

“There.” Pa placed a mug of tea in front of me. “Now, before they get back, you had better tell me you are not responsible for the mess of that girl’s face, or so help me…”

“Pa!” I said indignantly. “As if I would ever hit a girl! You raised me better than that!”

“Yes, we did.” Pa was still eyeing me threateningly. “And what she has in her belly? You responsible for that?”

“No!” I took a swallow of tea, not caring how scalding hot it was. “Pa, it’s not like that. It’s Rosalie King, my employer’s wife- she’s married! But he hurt her…you saw that. I didn’t know what else to do…” I felt oddly near tears.

Pa must have noticed something, because he reached across and cuffed me gently across the head. “Ah lad, I didn’t really think it of you. I just had to make sure.” He shook his head.

Ma and Rosalie came back in, and Rosalie sat down beside me. Despite being glassy eyed with tiredness and almost reeling on her feet, Rosalie sat painfully upright on the chair and stared down at her hands folded decorously in front of her.

“Are you okay?”

“It was an outhouse,” she muttered, almost inaudibly. “ _Outside_.”

“Do you have an outhouse inside?” Elizabeth demanded. “Like at the church hall?”

Rosalie looked mortified, and I muffled my laugh and tickled Elizabeth. “I missed you.”

“And we missed you,” Ma interrupted my game. “But I’d still like to know quite what you think you’re doing turning up on the doorstep in the middle of the night.”

I gave her a repentant smile. “Well, the thing is…”

“Tell it straight, Emmett,” Ma ordered sternly. “No need to try and spin it- just tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“I got the sack,” I said apologetically. “Royce had upset Rosalie, and I was giving her a hug and he came into the room and saw us. He thumped me one and told me to get out, so I did that. But then he hit Rosalie and dislocated her elbow, and she came and asked me to take her away. So I did.” I smiled reassuringly at Rosalie’s stricken face. “We went to the hospital first and the doctor fixed her arm and checked the baby and she’ll be okay, but she couldn’t go back to him.”

“Your husband did that to you, lass?” Pa asked Rosalie, his voice soft. “Even with you carrying his child he laid hands on you?”

Rosalie nodded jerkily. “It wasn’t the first time. I won’t go back to him. I don’t have to stay here if it’s too much trouble, but I’m never going back to him. I won’t let him hurt me or the baby again,” she said fiercely.

“Good for you,” Pa said. “And of course you can stay here if you’ve a mind to…any friend of Emmett’s has a place in our home.”

I caught the tightening of Ma’s lips, and I wondered anxiously what she was thinking. Was she sharing Pa’s obvious anger towards Royce and his violence, or was she less than pleased about me dropping a pregnant young woman in her lap and asking her to take care of her?

“I suppose for tonight she can go in the bed, and I’ll put Hannah and Maggie on the floor in that room,” Ma said. “Emmett, you can sleep on the sofa or go out to the barn.”

“I’m sorry for putting everyone out,” Rosalie said stiffly. “I do appreciate you going to the trouble.”

Ma smiled at her tiredly. “Don’t give it another thought. Now, I’m sure the two of you are exhausted…we’ll sort out places to sleep and we can talk more in the morning.”

Ma disappeared into the big room, and a moment later I heard some sleepy-voiced complaints as she woke the girls and moved them from the big bed to pallets on the floor. A few seconds later I saw two faces peeping around the door frame, one with curly dark hair and the other with straight, eyes wide as they sought out Rosalie. Rosalie didn’t see them, and when they saw me wink at them Hannah and Maggie both giggled and vanished back into the bedroom.

Pa took Elizabeth from my arms and took her into his room, which left Rosalie and I sitting at the table alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked her softly.

“I saw an _animal_ when I went outside,” Rosalie said with a look of sheer horror. “Some kind of giant rat… _thing_ in a tree.”

“Probably opossum,” I said with a grin. “You can eat them, you know.”

Rosalie shuddered, and then tried to smile. “Thank you for trying to help me.”

I couldn’t stop myself from reaching over and covering her hand in mine. “It’s going to be fine, really it is…you’ll like it here, and we can stay while we work out a plan.”

“It’s nice of your family to take me in,” Rosalie said awkwardly. “I didn’t realise it would be such an imposition.”

“It’s not,” I said, squeezing her hand. “It’s fine…and you’d better go to sleep, you look all in.”

I led her to the bedroom door, where we could see Ma settling Hannah and Maggie into beds on the floor. Will and Stephen were asleep on the floor at the foot of the bed, Will sprawled out on his back and Stephen curled up with his head jammed in Will’s armpit.

“I’m sorry we haven’t anything better,” I whispered to Rosalie, suddenly ashamed of how little my family had to offer her as I took in her shocked face.

“It’s fine,” she said, a little shakily. “As long as I can lie down and sleep, it will be fine…”

Reluctant to leave her, I nevertheless backed away when Ma put her hands on my chest and pushed. “Out,” she ordered me, and I obeyed, taking a seat back in the kitchen opposite her and Pa.

For a moment they both just looked at me, and then Ma sighed deeply and said, “Your employer’s wife, Emmett? Really?”

I looked at my hands and squirmed. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you telling me you’re not in love with that girl?”

The question from my usually practical, taciturn father surprised me so much I automatically looked him in the eye and answered truthfully. “I _do_ love her. But I haven’t ever acted on it, and I don’t know how she really feels about me.”

“Well, she asked you to take her away, so I can make a fairly educated guess!” Ma said tartly, but then she leaned over and rumpled my hair with a sigh. “It’s good to see your face again Emmett, but I can’t help thinking that you’re in for a whole world of trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – And there’s Rosalie’s introduction to Emmett’s home in Tennessee…outhouses and shared bedrooms and scary things in trees! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone reading and commenting to me- I really appreciate people taking the time to let me know what they are enjoying. Still lots more to come!


	21. Seeing More Clearly

I had wondered how on earth I was going to be able to sleep, with so many other people in the room, but that was no problem. After a long, hard day in the car driving across the state I was exhausted, and as soon as I lay down in the bed, warm with residual body heat from the two girls who had just been tossed out of it, I closed my eyes and slept like the dead.

I woke in the morning to an empty room. The threadbare curtain did little to block out the light, and I could see that I was under a patchwork quilt on an old iron bed. The floor was littered with a scatter of narrow mats and blankets that the children must have been sleeping on, and on the wall by the door there was a heavy old armoire.

A pair of blue eyes under a mop of curly hair came peering cautiously around the door; it was Elizabeth, apparently much shyer without the comforting back up of Emmett’s strong arms.

Not that I could blame her. Waking in this strange place had left me feeling frightened and alone, and I longed for a glimpse of Emmett’s bright, steady smile.

“Hello,” I said to her, as encouragingly as I knew how. She took a step closer, and I smiled to realise that she carried the doll I had sent her in one arm. “I like your doll.”

“Are you Miss Rosalie that sent it to me?”

I nodded. “Can I see her dress? Emmett said you made a new dress for her.”

Smiling tentatively, Elizabeth came over to the bed and held out the doll. “Mama knitted it. I call her Rosie.”

“She looks very pretty.” I realised that Elizabeth was staring at me in fascination and I felt a little embarrassed. All my things were still out in the car so I’d slept in my slip, a rather extravagant item of satin trimmed with Irish crocheted lace. With my battered face I also looked like I’d been in a boxing match. An odd combination to say the least.

“You talk kind of funny,” Elizabeth observed.

I laughed. “I’m from New York…everyone talks like this there.”

Elizabeth giggled. “Mama said if you’re awake I should tell you to come and have some breakfast.”

I dressed in the clothes I’d worn the previous day, feeling dirty and unkempt. Elizabeth noticed nothing though, and happily skipped ahead of me into the kitchen. Emmett’s mother was standing over the stove, and one of the other girls was kneading bread on the kitchen table, and both of them looked up as I entered.

“Rosalie, good morning. I’ve got some breakfast ready for you, if you’d like to go outside and then come and eat.”

Obediently I went outside and gingerly crossed the bare dirt yard to the outhouse. _That_ was going to take some getting used to, and unfortunately with an ever growing baby pressing down on my bladder I was going to have all too many opportunities to become familiar with the dark, smelly little shed.

_Oh my god, that’s the biggest spider I’ve ever seen!_

I hurriedly finished up and almost ran from the outhouse to the back porch, where one end was covered in and had a sink and tap. The water was cold, but there was a bar of surprisingly sweet-smelling soap there and a clean looking washcloth, so I scrubbed my hands and arms and face as best I could with my splinted arm, and felt better for it.

“Come in and sit down,” Emmett’s mother invited. “You’re not sick in the mornings?”

I touched my belly self-consciously. “No.”

“Good, then eat up,” she ordered, placing a bowl of porridge, a glass of milk and an egg in front of me.

“Thank you Mrs McCarty,” I said, picking up the spoon.

“If you’re going to be staying, then perhaps you’d best be calling me Miss Adeline,” she said. “And that’s Hannah there doing the bread.”

I nodded, my mouth full of porridge. I hadn’t eaten much over the drive, and I was suddenly starving. I cracked the egg and took a bite, and then took a swallow of milk and nearly choked.

“Fresh milk,” Emmett said, suddenly appearing from outside with a big grin and cheeks red from exertion. “Straight from the cow this morning, not like that pasteurised rubbish you had in the city.” He kissed his mother on the cheek. “Even the milk wasn’t as good as home, Ma.”

“There must have been _some_ good things!” The other girl came stomping into the kitchen between Emmett, scowling at him. Unlike the other children her hair was straight, her dress was ironed and she looked as immaculate as was possible for a child living in hand-me-down clothes on a farm. “You just complain all the time!” She looked at me and blushed scarlet. “I’m Maggie, ma’am.”

“Oh, just Rosalie is fine!” I said, a little bemused.

“Maggie wants to live in the city,” Hannah told me, a little shyly. “She thinks Emmett didn’t say enough about it in his letters.”

“He didn’t say _anything_ I wanted to know,” grouched Maggie making a face at her brother. “But Miss Rosalie, I can help you unpack your things! We can make room in the closet or in the bureau in the front room…”

“Let the girl eat her breakfast!” Miss Adeline ordered. “Hannah, we’ll need that bread on to bake for lunch. Maggie, go and tidy up that bedroom. Emmett, I want that car out of the front yard please.”

“It won’t start,” Emmett said mournfully, sitting down at the table and drinking the glass of milk. “I already tried…I guess driving it from New York killed it. Pa will have to have another look at it. I’ll push it round into the lean-to.” He looked at me and smiled, half reaching over as though to touch me and then stopping and letting his hand drop. “Are you okay? Did you sleep well? Is that enough to eat?”

I nodded yes to all his questions, scraping up the remains of the porridge. As I finished Miss Adeline whisked it away to the sink and then said, “Hannah, I’ll finish the bread. You go on now.”

Hannah left and I watched as Miss Adeline began deftly shaping the bread loaves. It reminded me of being younger, when Vera and I had loved helping her mother bake.

“When’s that baby due to make an appearance?” Miss Adeline asked briskly.

“Late summer, the doctor told me,” I answered.

“And have you been keeping well? In one of his letters Emmett said there’d been some trouble, but he didn’t say what.”

I flushed. They talked about me? But Miss Adeline’s frankness was so honest and sincere that I had no option but to respond with equal openness. “I bled,” I told her. “Just once, but it was a lot. The doctor could find no reason for it, and told me I simply needed to be careful.”

Miss Adeline nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps we’ll get Mrs Miller down to have a look at you. She’s the local midwife.” She slid the bread into the oven.

I looked at Emmett helplessly. “But what about the doctor? And the hospital?”

Emmett bit his lip. “There isn’t money for a hospital birth, not if you don’t need it. We’ll work something out if it comes to that but…well…”

“Chances are very good that you won’t need it,” Miss Adeline said, more gently than she’d spoken yet. “First babies can be a bit tricky, but you’re young and healthy. Mrs Miller has been the midwife in these parts for over thirty years and has a lot of experience. She brought all my lot into the world, including this little runt!” She rumpled Emmett’s hair affectionately, as he swatted at her hands in playful offence.

“Runt?! Me?”

Miss Adeline laughed. “Oh, you were …all the others were eight and nine pounds, then along came Emmett, just a mite under six pounds,” she told me with a soft smile of remembrance. “I was half afraid to touch him in case I broke him.” She shook her head. “Who ever knew he’d grow up into the biggest one of all of them?”

Emmett rolled his eyes. “I’m going to show Rosalie around,” he told his mother. “If there’s not anything you need us to do?”

There wasn’t, and so Emmett waited until I’d drunk a glass of water and the he led the way through the house. “You’ve seen your bedroom and the kitchen, well that’s the front room and Ma and Pa’s room.”

The living room had a dark, grim look to it, with an itchy looking dark rug and heavy dark furniture; a sofa, a bureau, a china cabinet and an upright piano all crowded into it. The bedroom was more cheerful, with a colourful patchwork quilt on the big, wood-framed bed and a bright knitted blanket on a small army cot in a corner.

“Elizabeth sleeps in there too,” Emmett said, leading the way along the hall and out the front door. The porch was deep and shady, keeping the house cool on a day in which the sun shone down fiercely. “During summer us boys always slept out on the porch, so we’ll be able to get the summer beds out today and then you’ll just be sharing with Maggie and Hannah.”

The yard surrounding the house was almost all dirt, but it had a few big, shady trees. Two barefoot boys were swinging on a tyre swing hung from one, and I could see a ladder leaning precariously up to a treehouse in another. Emmett waved at the boys and introduced them as Stephen and Will, and I hoped I’d remember which was which. Apart from Maggie with her straight hair, all Emmett’s siblings had the same curly dark hair and sky blue eyes, although Emmett was the only one with the dimples.

To the rear of the house were the outhouse and a couple of outbuildings, as well as a chicken coop and a large barn. Everything was ramshackle and shabby. The doors to the chicken coop were open and chickens were scratching enthusiastically around the yard, squawking and running away when Emmett and I went near them. To the front and barn side of the house was pasture, with forest stretching away from the back and other side. In the pasture beside the barn three cows with calves at foot stood lazily chewing, swishing flies with their tails as I looked at the babies in fascination.

“Come for a walk,” Emmett said, a little subdued after showing me everything. “I’ll show you the river…as kids we pretty much lived there in the summer.”

It was a well worn path that he led me along through the forest. The forest was both too quiet and too noisy for me…it lacked the noises of town that I was familiar with, cars and people, but there were other strange sounds that had me feeling anxious and edgy. What was hiding in the forest around me?

The river was a lovely surprise. Emmett and I were on a stony bank that sloped sharply down to a beautifully cool, clear looking river that was curving its way through the forest. The opposite bank had trees and bushes growing close down to the water, and although the water here looked smooth and still I could hear the sounds of it clattering over rocks further along. A large, gnarled tree spread branches out over the water and a rope hanging from one swung lazily in the breeze. It looked like a picture postcard, and I couldn’t stop my small exclamation of pleasure.

“I’m glad you like it.” Emmett kicked off his boots and socks and sat on a broad flat rock that rose up out of the shallows, dipping his feet into the water as he rolled up his pants legs. “It’s cold…you want to try?”

I gingerly sat down beside Emmett, a little abashed to find myself sitting so close to him. But the rock was better than sitting in the dirt, and after a moment of tension I felt myself begin to relax.

Emmett leaned back on his hands and kicked the water, flinging golden drops into the air and making it ripple outwards. “You should get your feet wet. It’s nice.” He tipped his face back to the sun and closed his eyes.

I hesitated for a moment and then slipped off my shoes and reached under my dress to unclip my stockings and take them off. Emmett watched me from under sleepy, half-lidded eyes and I had a sudden, uncomfortable flash of memory. Royce, touching me while I changed my stockings before the Banker’s Ball, way back before we were ever married…if only I had acknowledged how uncomfortable he made me that night! If only I had been able to tell someone about the way he touched me, the way he had gripped my arms hard enough to leave bruises, the way I had overheard he and his father talking about me!

“Rosalie?” It was Emmett, uncertainty clear in his voice. “What’s the matter?”

“Am I really so stupid?” I said tightly. “Why did I not _see_ what he was? How stupid am I that I let things go on in that way?”

“What else could you have done?” Emmett said softly. “He’s a sweet-talking, cunning son of a bitch Rosalie, and it wasn’t stupidity on your part.”

I yanked my stockings off angrily. “I hate him. I never want to see him again.”

“You don’t have to,” Emmett leaned forward and trailed a hand in the water. “You can stay here, if you want to.” He looked at me sideways. “If you’d rather not, we can work something else out.”

I tipped my toes into the water, wincing at the coldness at first. But it soon changed to a delicious coolness and I swished my feet in it as I thought.

Emmett’s home was not what I had expected. I had listened to what he said as we drove, but my life had not given me the experiences that I would have needed to imagine the poverty of Emmett’s home. I had been thinking of Vera levels of poverty, of having to scrimp and save…I had not considered four roomed shacks with outhouses, and children with no shoes and threadbare clothes.

But for all that, I was a stranger and his family had been kind. Kinder than I had any right or reason to expect. There had been no hesitation about opening up their home to me and promising to take care of me and my baby, and I had to face the truth that I had no one else. Only Emmett.

Emmett. He was looking out at the river now, his feet dangling in the water, leaning back on his hands. Stretching my legs out a little more I sat the same way, or at least tried, since I only had one arm, and after a slow, peaceful moment I leaned a little more to the side and rested my head against Emmett’s shoulder. The sounds of water and birds, the cool water of the river and the warmth of Emmett’s shoulder against my cheek…

_Why didn’t I see this before? Why didn’t I see YOU as fully and completely as I am seeing you now?_


	22. The Best Part of the Job

 Rosalie’s head on my shoulder, her upper arm pressed against my bicep, nearly took my breath away. For a moment I was frozen in shock, and then I very gently rested my cheek against her head.

“I don’t think Royce will just let me go,” she said, very quietly. “He won’t want _me_ anymore, not if he thinks that I have…with you…”

Her voice trailed off and I fancied I could feel the heat of her embarrassment right through the top of her head.

“It isn’t that I think he’ll want me back, as such,” Rosalie went on, gathering herself together. “But he will be furious at the thought that I’ve made a fool of him, or humiliated him, and he’ll want revenge for that.” She shuddered for a moment and sat up, hugging her legs and staring out at the river. “But he wants the baby, especially if it’s a boy, and that’s what I’m really afraid of. That he’s going to come and take my baby away.”

“Well, it’s pretty safe where it is for the time being,” I said lightly. The look of disdain Rosalie threw my way could have cut stone, and I let my face turn serious. “I’m sorry…but I promise you we’ll take care of you and the baby whatever happens. I’m not going to let him take you anywhere you don’t want to go, and I’m not going to let him take the baby when it comes either. He doesn’t know you came with me, and even if he guesses it is he going to come all this way just to check? Even if he _does_ , you’ve got me and my Pa and we’ve got a shotgun, and Royce didn’t ever strike me as all that brave a man, to be honest. Not hitting girls.”

Rosalie sighed and let a hand rest on the bump for a moment. “I hate feeling like a burden. It’s not like I thought it would be, Emmett…I can see that it’s going to be a real strain to have me here.”

I felt a stab of guilt. Rosalie wasn’t the only one who felt like a burden…in quitting my job I’d taken away an important source of income for the family and landed two new mouths to feed on the doorstep. It wasn’t as though Rosalie would be of any use either- I knew that she’d have to take it easy, even if she _did_ have any useful skills, which I suspected she didn’t really. Certainly she’d never cooked or laundered or gardened as long as I’d known her!

“It’ll be okay,” I said optimistically. “It’s early summer, and I can get some work harvesting in a month or two. The garden will be producing so there’ll be plenty of veggies, and we’ve got the three milkers at the moment. That’s plenty of food, and as for the rest…well like I said, we’ll work it out.”

 Rosalie began twisting her rings on her fingers. “I have these,” she said slowly.

I didn’t say anything at first. I’d long ago stopped noticing the endless sparkle of Rosalie’s jewels, but now that she’d drawn my attention to it there was no doubt that the enormous diamond engagement ring and solid gold wedding band glittering on her finger would be worth a bundle. “I don’t want his jewels,” I muttered.

“I don’t want them either,” Rosalie said fiercely, finally managing to tug them from her finger. “I hate him and I don’t want anything around to remind me of him…so either you take them and sell them or do whatever you want with them, or I’m throwing them into this river right now.”

“Well, no need to be rash,” I said hastily, taking the rings from Rosalie and dropping them into my shirt pocket. I had my principles, but I also had to be realistic…life was uncertain and I couldn’t have Rosalie throwing what equated to several years worth of income into the river. “I’ll keep them for you. And now…how’s your arm? Would you like to try taking off that splint?”

“Yes please.” With only a tiny hesitation Rosalie offered me her arm, and I held it gently and tentatively unwound the bandages holding the splint on to it. As it fell away her elbow was revealed as being various shades of blue, purple and black, but Rosalie moved it slowly with a look of surprise. “It’s not bad.”

“Take it easy,” I warned her. “Doctor Cullen said to move it gently, but keep it in the sling for a couple of weeks. He said it wasn’t a bad dislocation and he got it back in place quickly, so it should heal well.”

Rosalie knelt forward on the rock and splashed water on the arm with a groan of despair. “It looks horrible…and my face looks horrible too! I don’t even know how anyone can look at me!”

I laughed, but only gently when I realised she was genuinely upset. “Rosa girl, you are beautiful,” I said to her sincerely. “Maybe a bit bruised and battered at the moment, but that just shows me how strong you are.” I scooted forward enough to gently wrap the linen sling around her arm and tie it at her neck to hold it steady.

My hands shook as I reached behind her to knot the fabric. She was so close to me, and with my hands on either side of her neck I was almost embracing her. I was close enough to see the extraordinary deep violet-blue colour of her eyes and the length of the dark lashes that ringed them. My eyes dropped to the smooth, pale skin of her aristocratic nose, and the slightly flushed curved of her cheeks, and then landed on her pink, eminently kissable mouth. _Oh, Rosalie…_

But before anything happened, Rosalie laid her hands carefully over mine and lifted them off her shoulders. For a moment I focussed only on the warmth of her delicate hands curved around mine, before she smiled at me shakily and released me.

I knew then that even though I’d brought Rosalie away from the hell she’d been living in, she hadn’t been able to leave it behind, not really. There were more wounds left by Royce and his behaviour than what could be seen on the outside, and the ones on the inside might take a whole lot longer to heal.

“Come on,” I said, “Let’s go home.”

Back at the house I hauled in the bundle of Rosalie’s belongings and dropped it on the bed. Almost instantly Maggie appeared, her eyes alight with fascination.

“Do you want help to put your things away?” she offered. “It will be easier for me to do it since your arm is hurt.”

“Thank you,” Rosalie said graciously. “I’d appreciate it.”

I left them to it. Hannah and Elizabeth joined them in a few moments, and from the kitchen I could hear their chatter and laughter. Rosalie seemed to be relaxing under the admiring words and looks of my sisters as they pored over her expensive, luxurious clothes.

Ma handed me a knife and a pile of potatoes. “Make yourself useful.”

Obligingly I started peeling them as closely as I could. “Oh,” I said, remembering. “Rosalie gave me her rings.” I fished them out of my pocket and pressed them into Ma’s hand. “She was going to throw them into the river, but I thought that might be just a _bit_ of a waste.”

Ma’s eyes went wide. “Emmett, what are we supposed to do with these? They must be worth a fortune!”

“Probably even more than that!” I raised my eyebrows. “Ma, the money they had is crazy. But Rosalie doesn’t want reminders of Royce…he was awful to her. I know what kind of person he was and I know some of what he did to her, but I don’t know it all and I think it was really bad.”

Ma shook her head. “It just shows that money doesn’t mean anything when it comes to human nature, doesn’t it?” She dropped the rings into the cracked china gravy boat on the mantelpiece and began slicing the carrots. “Unfortunately for Rosalie she’s going to have a small but very demanding reminder of her husband in a couple of months!”

I felt a peculiar mix of protectiveness and jealousy at the thought of Rosalie having Royce’s baby.

Sharp-eyed as ever, my Ma must have caught something in my face because she cleared her throat and said softly, “You can’t change that Emmett, and it’s something you’re going to have to deal with. Anyone with eyes can see that Rosalie’s carrying a baby, and everyone in these parts is going to assume it’s yours.”

I continued to scrape at the potatoes. “I don’t care.”

“But Rosalie might.” Ma began chopping the peeled potatoes.

I shoved the last of the potatoes over to her. “I don’t know…what does it matter?”

“People talk,” Ma rapidly chopped the potatoes and threw them into the stew pot. “That doesn’t mean you have to pay them any mind, but you and Rosalie need to be prepared for what will be said.”

I washed my hands and wiped them on my pants, silent for a minute. Ma was right that people talked, and the beautiful, broken, pregnant Rosalie was surely something to talk about.

“Maybe I’ll have a bit of a chat to Rosalie,” Ma said musingly, and then shook her head with a sigh. “Of all the things I thought you might get up to in the city Emmett, this was not something I considered!”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I never meant for this to happen. But I didn’t know that many people in Rochester and sometimes it was lonely. I was always driving her and walking with her and we started talking, and then…well, the next thing I knew she was my friend. Maybe I would have wanted it to be more, but she was married and I wouldn’t have disrespected her by trying anything. You taught me better than that. But he hurt her a lot, and then he beat her and broke her arm and risked her life and the baby’s life and…it’s different now. For as long as she wants me I’m going to take care of her and that baby.”

I saw Ma’s eyes flick to the doorway, and I knew before I turned around that Rosalie had heard me. But her face was smooth and expressionless as Maggie scooted in under her arm and ran to Ma.

“Oh, it was all so _amazing_!” Maggie gushed. “More clothes than all of ours put together and all so beautiful and fancy, even the _underwear_ …” She looked at me and giggled.

“Underwear!” I said, pretending to be scandalised. “Who’s talking about _underwear_? Have you been turning cartwheels at school and showing all the boys your drawers again, Miss Margaret McCarty?”

Maggie sniffed and tossed her head. “As if I would _ever_ do such a thing,” she said scornfully.

“You did last year!” I pointed out.

“Well, I’m much more grown up now!” Maggie protested. “And anyway, I’m not the one with a _boyfriend_ …”

“Maggie!” Hannah, evidently the one with the boyfriend, glared at our sister from where she stood beside Rosalie.

Elizabeth came in to the kitchen too, scrambling up on to my lap as she giggled. “Hannah’s got a boyfriend, Hannah’s got a boyfriend…” she chanted, adding brightly, “It’s your friend Albie, Emmett.”

I nearly pushed her off my lap as I swung around to stare at Hannah. “You…what?”

“Emmett,” Ma said warningly. “This is not really your business.”

“You’re sweet on Albie Clements? But you’re not old enough!”

“I’m sixteen,” Hannah said defensively. “And it’s not serious, we just…”

“They go to the dances,” Elizabeth informed me. “Two times. _And_ he walks her home from church.”

That was serious enough in my book, and I didn’t know that I liked it at all! Albie had been my pal since the infant grades of school and was generally a good fellow, but not at all good enough for my sister Hannah! “He can’t go out with you! He doesn’t even have a job!”

“Neither do you!” Hannah fired back. “And that didn’t stop you from…” She glanced at Rosalie and bit her lip.

“Enough, children!” Ma said in exasperation. “Girls, did you find space for all Rosalie’s things?”

“No, there’s too much!” Elizabeth’s eyes were wide. “Mama…”

“Okay then, I’ve put the stew on so I have a few minutes to come in and help you.” Wiping her hands on her apron Ma bustled out of the room, pushing the girls ahead of her.

A little bemused by all that had happened I wandered outside. Eventually I stopped and leaned on the pasture fence, watching the cows and wishing they were my horse Star instead. The vague thought I’d had of saving my wages and buying another young horse to train was nothing more than a fantasy since I’d lost my job, and I sighed mournfully.

“What’s the matter?” It was Rosalie, stopping and leaning a little awkwardly against the fence beside me. The bruising on her face was on the other side, and she looked flawlessly lovely as the breeze blew back the tendrils of hair that had escaped the braid.

“I was just thinking about my horse,” I admitted. “Wishing that I hadn’t had to sell her…but there, you can’t change the past, can you? Not much point worrying over it.”

“You could buy another.”

“That’s what I was saving for with my wages,” I told her. “I sent most of it back to Ma, but I kept a little bit each time.”

Rosalie looked troubled. “I’m sorry you lost the job because of me.”

I stared at her incredulously. “Sorry I…what are you _talking_ about? As if I could have worked for him knowing what he was doing to you!”

Rosalie flushed. “You don’t even know all of it,” she said miserably.

“I don’t need to know if you don’t want to tell me,” I said gently. “After all, I don’t need any more reasons to want to kill him!”

“I guess I’m just sorry that you lost your wages and your chance to do something different with your life if you wanted to,” Rosalie said.

“I’m not sorry,” I said. “I like being home…and I brought the best part of the job with me, anyway.”

I held my breath as she turned to face me, showing me both the flawless and the bruised sides of her face. The beautiful and the broken…and I loved all of it.

Rosalie smiled and then her mouth opened and she laughed. “I heard what you said before. About taking care of me and the baby?” She waited until I nodded before she continued. “I am so grateful for that. You know that? I really, really am. But I need…please just give me time. I’m grateful to you, and I’m happy to be here with you and your family, but please…I need time.”

For a moment she looked panicked, and I reached out and took her hand, wrapping it in both of mine. “I love you Rosalie. I guess you know that, so I might as well say it. But this isn’t an obligation…you don’t owe me anything. You have as much time as you need sweetheart…you have all the time in the world, if that’s what it takes.”


	23. How it Looks

The first painful, difficult day of my life in Tennessee stumbled by. My arm hurt, my face ached, and nothing, _nothing_ , was like I was used to. From the outhouse to the food, it was all new and bewildering and if I hadn’t had Emmett, with his cheerful smile and gentle guidance, I would have been lost.

Mr McCarty returned around midday, and everyone sat down for a meal. I was given a plate of stew and a thick slice of bread, and for a brief moment there was quiet as everyone began eating.

“I spoke to Henry Allison this morning, Emmett,” Mr McCarty said after he’d swallowed and cleared his throat. “He said he’ll hire you on when he’s got work over the summer.”

“Oh, great.” Emmett looked at me. “Pa works for the Allisons on the next farm over. I’ve worked there off and on since I left school.”

“He had another offer for you too,” Mr McCarty went on. “He’s ended up with a bitch of a mare – excuse my language, ladies – that he took in trade from someone who couldn’t pay a debt. He was wondering if you wanted to take her and see what you can do with her. He can’t pay you, but if you get her to a saleable state he’ll give you a cut of the final price.”

“I’ll be in that,” Emmett said eagerly. “It’ll be something to do with myself anyway…what do you say the mare is like?”

They fell into a discussion about horses, and I ate the excellent bread and stew with quiet enjoyment. It wasn’t like anything Ellen had cooked, but whatever the unfamiliar meat was it was quite tasty, along with the gravy and vegetables.

“It’s rabbit,” Hannah told me, catching me when I was trying to subtly examine the meat.

“I caught it,” Will chimed in. He was nine and an almost exact replica of Emmett. “I do all the snares now that Emmett’s gone, and I found a good new place.”

I nodded faintly. He seemed so proud, and yet the idea of a fluffy little rabbit being skinned and gutted by this child was turning my stomach. My appetite returned with the sight of the bread pudding and thick, rich cream that I was given for my second course, and Emmett laughed as he took in my face.

“I told you Ma could cook,” he said. “And the cream is from the cows out there. With three of them in milk we’ve got plenty.”

“It’s very good,” I said, a little embarrassed as I was given a second helping without asking for one. “Thank you Miss Adeline.”

“You’re quite welcome. And now, it’s bathtime after lunch so I don’t want any of you children to go anywhere. You need to be ready when it’s your turn.”

The two boys set up a howl immediately, and even Elizabeth looked tragically at her mother. “Not _hair_ though, Mama!”

“Yes, even hair,” Miss Adeline said firmly. “It’s Saturday afternoon and I’ll be taking a _clean_ family to church tomorrow. Rosalie, you can go first I think.”

“Oh,” I said, a little startled to be organised in this manner. “I…yes. That will be fine.”

At least, I thought it would be fine. Unlike the children with their apparent loathing of it, I loved baths. Sitting in the McCarty’s shabby little kitchen with the smoke stained ceiling and wall above the range, I thought longingly of my claw-foot tub and a long, deep, scented baths. I hadn’t seen a bathroom, but since they were about to bathe obviously there was one somewhere…

And then Emmett dragged a massive tin tub into the kitchen and dropped it down in front of the stove with a crash, and I understood with something akin to horror that there was not going to be a lovely, leisurely scented hot bath here!

Not wanting anyone to see the ridiculous tears that sprang to my eyes I turned and stumbled out onto the front porch. Of all the things I had taken for my granted in my life and that seemed to be vanishing into the past, it was the bathtub that would have brought me to tears!

“Don’t you like bath time either?” There was a patter of little footsteps, and Elizabeth stood beside me, looking up with a sympathetic face. “Or is it getting your hair washed? I hate hair washing. But Emmett is the best with combing out tangles so I always ask him to do mine. You can ask him to do yours too.”

I wiped my eyes and smiled at her shakily. “Well, that might be a good idea. It’s a bit hard with my sore arm you know.”

“Oh yes.” Elizabeth nodded like she knew all about it. “If you come in Hannah will do your hair in the sink while the tub fills up, and then you get the tub to wash the rest of you.”

They slotted me effortlessly into what was obviously a regular routine. Hannah sat me down with my head bent back over the sink and washed my hair, before she wrapped a towel around it and sent me to the tub, which was small and cramped and lukewarm at best. At least they gave me some privacy to wash, something no one else seemed to be afforded- while Hannah was in the tub Maggie was having her hair washed, then while she went into the tub Elizabeth was squawking about her neck hurting and water in her eyes as she bent over the sink. Even Emmett, looking a bit bashful, had his head bent over the sink and washed and somehow managed to cram himself into the tub. Last of all were the other boys, who laughed and yelped as their mother took to them with a scrubbing brush.

Elizabeth was right about Emmett though. When I was sitting on the edge of the bed and wrestling with my hair, struggling to comb it with limited motion in one arm he saw me and came and sat behind me. Without a word he took the comb I’d borrowed from Hannah and worked the tangles from my hair until it was as smooth and soft as silk. Even then he didn’t stop, just kept brushing and combing as my hair dried. I let him, so exhausted I could have fallen asleep under his gentle touch.

“I need to talk to you,” Emmett murmured finally. He put the comb down and I twisted to face him, seeing his ears go red with embarrassment. “It’s about going to church tomorrow.”

“Yes?”

“It’s just…we’ll have to introduce you, and explain to people who you are, and I don’t know what you want us to say. Because well…” Emmett was fumbling for words.

“Because it all looks so bad?” I said wryly. “Because either I’m married and I’m carrying my husband’s baby and have run away with you, or I’m married and carrying _your_ baby and have run away with you, or I’m unmarried and carrying a bastard baby…either way I’m a scandalous whore.”

“Don’t say that!” Emmett’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “Don’t ever use that word about yourself!”

“What…whore?” _Royce used it all the time Emmett, and if someone calls you something often enough you begin to half believe it._

“Yes. You never were…you’re not now. No matter what happens. He’s the one who broke the marriage vows, not you.” Emmett fiddled with the comb.

“I tried to keep them, but it didn’t do much good in the end, did it?” I said wearily. “My marriage is still over, for all intents and purposes. I don’t care what people will say, and I don’t want to tell them anything. Just introduce me as Rosalie and let them wonder.”

Brave words that I wasn’t sure I could live up to when it came to it!

Church was obviously central to the McCarty family and their community. The family woke early and everyone dressed in what was clearly their best. I was momentarily gratified to see Hannah wearing the red printed dress Emmett and I had bought for her.

I put on my prettiest flared skirt, which sat nicely under my belly, and chose a matching pink blouse that barely buttoned over it. It suddenly struck me that I’d had an entire maternity wardrobe due to be delivered at home in Rochester, but here I was four states away and with no guarantee that any of my clothes would fit me tomorrow. What was I supposed to _wear?_

Hannah saw my stricken face and mistakenly thought it was about my hair, which was impossible to do with my arm in a sling. She offered to do it for me, which she did with surprising skill, even managing to hide some of the bruising on my face. Once I had my hat on at an angle you would barely be able to tell, if I dipped my head a little, that I’d been hurt.

Emmett offered me his arm on the walk, despite the giggling of the smaller children. I accepted- the walk was long, my shoes were high, and the road was definitely not the paved city path I was used to.

I was glad for more reasons than just his help with my balance though, when we turned into the churchyard and I still had his comforting warm and strength beside me. Like all close-knit communities the members of the church congregation were familiar with each other’s lives and Emmett’s return and the arrival of a stranger were both matters of interest. Add on the fact that the stranger arrived _with_ Emmett, wore sapphires in her ears and at her neck, had her arm in a sling and a very obvious pregnant belly under her expensive clothes…well I could hardly blame them for watching me with open fascination.

“Emmett old man, you’re back!” A tall, lanky young man in a dusty suit came loping over, smiling from under a neat moustache. “What happened with the job? Did they discover you only learned to drive on the way up?” He looked at me and blushed red. “Excuse me for not introducing myself, ma’am, I’m Albert Clements.”

“Albie, this is Rosalie,” Emmett told him, squeezing my hand a little tighter. “She’s staying with us for a bit. And the job didn’t work out…could you really see me spending the rest of my life wearing a monkey suit?”

Albie snorted. “I wondered about that.” He looked shiftily to the side. “I suppose one of those big mouthed brothers or sisters of yours might’ve mentioned something…?”

Emmett’s brows lowered. “About you and Hannah?”

“Uh yeah…you’re not too mad? I mean, you must have known I was sweet on her, and you didn’t say anything…”

“I’m not going to say much now,” Emmett sighed. “I’ve been told very firmly that I can just keep my nose out of it! But I’ll say this- I’ll cheerfully break your neck for her if you _ever_ do anything…”

“Yeah, sure,” Albie muttered, but I saw his quick glance at me and the very raised eyebrows he sent Emmett’s way and I turned scarlet and squirmed with mortification. Clearly everyone was assuming that I was some stray girl pregnant with Emmett McCarty’s bastard baby…I felt a surge of admiration for Miss Adeline who was dealing with this apparent ‘shame’ with equanimity.

Even the minister had the same assumption. After the service he took up a post near the door and greeted the congregation as they left. Emmett and I were one of the last ones out of the door, and the elderly minister shook my hands warmly and welcomed me to the church, giving me a rather effusive blessing that quiet surprised me. I was even more surprised when he turned to Emmett and gave him a sharp rap with his knuckles.

“As for you, Emmett McCarty, it’s ashamed I am of you! Your parents such good churchgoers and upright, honest folks and you go and disgrace them! I prayed for you to manage temptation and avoid sin in the big city, I thought after all your years of Sunday school and having such good guidance at home…but it seems we were wrong! Look at what you’ve done…Now, we’ve got to sort out the mess. It won’t be hard, but you’ll be a proper man and do your duty. I’ll be expecting a call from the two of you during the week and we’ll be arranging a wedding…”

“Oh sir no, you’ve got it all wrong!” Emmett gabbled, his ears fire engine red and holding his hands up in surrender.

I couldn’t stay. I could feel laughter bubbling up inside me, wild hysterical laughter that I wouldn’t be able to control if I let it go, so I just turned on my heels and hurried away. So much to laugh at! Emmett’s comical look of shock, the idea of this tiny, elderly minister so thoroughly bullying the big, brawny Emmett, the thought of my mother’s face if she knew what all these people were saying about me and yet I didn’t care…

_I don’t care. It’s true. Whatever they think of me…it doesn’t matter. I know the truth, Emmett knows the truth, his family know the truth. And they understand. Everyone else…what does their opinions matter?_

It was like a revelation. The first time in my entire life that ‘what everyone else will think’ wasn’t one of my foremost concerns. For the first time in my life I began to understand that what other people thought of me didn’t have to dictate the way I lived, and that it was more important that I do what felt right to me.


	24. Finding her Feet

I stepped away from the minister feeling somewhat dazed. I had known that Rosalie being at church would create a stir, but I hadn’t exactly expected to be hauled up before the minister and browbeaten about my sinful ways in getting this poor girl pregnant and not doing the right thing by marrying her.

“Emmett you dirty dog!” A strong hand clapped me on the shoulder and I spun around to find Jeb Allison grinning at me. Jeb was several years older than I was, but he and I had been friends since I used to tag along with him and my older brothers when I was a kid. “What the hell are you doing? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were going to be a papa?”

“It’s not like that,” I muttered. “She’s married to someone else.”

“The plot thickens!” Albie appeared at Jeb’s elbow, eyeing me quizzically.

“She’s a looker,” Jeb contributed cheerfully. “I can’t blame you for going there!”

I ground my teeth. “I went nowhere! Her name is Rosalie, she’s married but she had to get away for a bit. Ma said it’s fine for her to stay with us for now.”

Albie and Jeb both looked sceptical, and I wondered a little glumly if the whole town was thinking that not only was I a womanising cad, but I was a flat out liar too. It was frustrating to know that the truth was the least likely explanation for the situation and that everyone’s assumptions would go automatically in another direction!

_Not to mention the fact that I damn well wish the baby was mine if it meant that she and I were something special to each other!_

____________________________________________________

Watching Rosalie’s struggle to adjust to life in Tennessee wrung my heart. Every day I spent with her made me fall deeper in love with the complicated, fiery, changeable girl that she was, but she didn’t find the days easy.

 Everything was unfamiliar to her. I had told her it would be different, but I guess even I hadn’t realised how much until we were both knee deep in it. Even the simplest things, like food, took on more significance as Rosalie tried to adjust. She liked my Ma’s cooking okay, but she was horrified by the lack of variety and missed her fresh fruit and chicken and fancy desserts. It took her weeks to adjust to the different taste of fresh milk.

She missed all the luxuries that had always been necessities to her. She missed her daily hot baths and indoor plumbing, and missed having freshly laundered clothes each day. She missed having Ellen there to anticipate her needs, and missed having a car at her disposal. She missed her large record collection, and she missed being able to dress up and go out to the theatre or the cinema or a club. She did her best to hide it, but I know there were many parts of our life that horrified her because of the poverty or deprivation.

She missed _space_. In our house there was always someone there, demanding to know what you were doing, why you were doing it, and what you were going to do next. There was no privacy and no secrets. For Rosalie, who had grown up as an only child and then married and moved into that enormous house with Royce, the lack of peace and privacy was something she struggled with.

But she tried. She was unfailingly polite to my family, although sometimes this was accomplished by her stomping away from the house and refusing to talk to anyone until she regained her composure. It quickly became habit for me to take her out walking of an evening, just the two of us, so that she could rant and rave and stamp her feet about everything she hated, knowing that once it was all out there she would feel better.

___________________________________________

“There’s just always someone _there_ ,” Rosalie raged. “Even today when Mrs Miller came – she’s the midwife, remember? – Elizabeth wanted to watch when she measured my belly. And Stephen talks in his sleep and he’s just outside the window on the porch!”

I laughed gently and took her hand to help her across the fallen log that acted as a bridge across the river on the short cut to the Allisons’ farm. “I’d forgotten about that, but he always talked in his sleep.” I glanced surreptitiously at her belly, which seemed to have grown in just the time since I’d brought her home. “How was it with Mrs Miller? Everything going good?”

Rosalie looked relieved to be off the log and on solid ground again. “Yes, it’s fine. I feel the baby moving a lot now, which is reassuring. I’m glad that Royce didn’t…well, I’m glad to know that the baby is safe.”

“Do you feel better about having the baby here, and not going to the hospital?” I asked hesitantly.

Rosalie reddened a little. “I suppose. Although not if it means I have to have the whole family sitting there watching, like they seem to do when I want to do anything else!”

I laughed. “Not a chance! Pa will be out of there at the first sign of anything, and the rest of us won’t be far behind I reckon. We’ll go over to the Allison’s and keep out of they way while Ma and Mrs Miller take care of you.”

 “I’m so scared of that part,” Rosalie muttered, her face flaming now. “I know how inappropriate it is to talk about it with you of all people, but the very idea of it…”

“You can talk to me.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed, pleased to feel her fingers curl around mine in response. “You can talk to me about anything. Although I don’t know that much about having babies…my Ma had ten of them and my sister’s had three though, so it can’t be that bad?”

“You don’t have to do it!” Rosalie exclaimed. “Of course it doesn’t sound that bad to _you_!”

I laughed a little guiltily. Truthfully the idea of childbirth made me whimper, but I wasn’t going to tell Rosalie that! “You’ll do fine,” I said comfortingly. “And then there’ll be a baby…we’ll have to start getting ready for it.”

“We?” Rosalie’s voice was soft.

“We,” I repeated more firmly. “I can get some wood and make a cradle for it, and you’ll have to do something about clothes. Ma’s got piles of dressmaking stuff in the bureau in the living room and you’ll be able to use some of that to sew some little nightgowns. They won’t need much fabric. There are odds and ends of knitting wool as well, and baby things will be a good way to use it up. I’ve got some of my wages saved up still, so we can buy whatever else we need. And if I get this horse into a saleable state quickly, there’ll be that money too.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” Rosalie said in surprise.

“I think about you a lot,” I mumbled. “And the baby too.” I didn’t go into detail about the stupid daydreams where Rosalie and I and the baby made a family.

She squeezed my hand, although a moment later she said very tentatively, “I don’t know what Royce will do about the baby. He’ll want it, not because he loves it but because it’s just something that he’ll believe he owns.”

I shrugged. “If he turns up we’ll deal with it then. He’s probably worked out that you went off with me, but he hasn’t shown up so far…I’ll deal with him when he does.”

Deal with him with my fists, I thought silently. The idea of doing to Royce what he’d done to Rosalie was very satisfying, and there was a part of me that wished he would dare to show his face down here in Tennessee.

“I never thought it would end up like this,” Rosalie said bleakly. “I hate that I’m still afraid of him. But as long as he’s out there…”

“Hey.” I stopped, and lifted her face to look at mine. “You’re safe here. _Really._ I’m staying close to home for a while so that if he shows up here I can deal with him for you. Pa won’t let him do anything either…heck, even Will knows how to use the shotgun. And imagine what Ma would have to say to him if he dared to show his face!” I couldn’t help laughing a little. “I know you’re scared sweetheart, but you don’t have to be. He’s never going to be able to hurt you again.” My heart thumping, I leaned down a little and brushed my lips across hers. “You don’t need to give him another thought. Just concentrate on healing your arm and growing that baby and being happy.”

Rosalie smiled at me, and then turned and continued walking along the path. But she didn’t let go of my hand, and with a light heart I walked close by her side.

Once we reached the Allisons we found Mr Allison and Jeb leaning on the fence of the small yard, both of them red-faced and panting as they eyed the horse within.

“Should have got you over here to help us yard her,” Mr Allison grunted.

“We’ve been out here over an hour, getting her from the pasture into the yard,” Jeb informed me. “You can see why we haven’t done anything with her, she’s damned impossible.”

I held out a cautious hand towards the mare, who flung up her head and bolted to the other side of the yard and snorted at me.

“She’s supposedly broken in,” Mr Allison told me, leaning on the fence and eyeing the horse critically. “Bucked and reared and carried on like a rodeo horse when we put a saddle on her though. I don’t have the time and Jeb don’t have the skill to sort her out, so I’d pretty much given up and figured I’d have to send her to the knackery. When your Pa said you were home and might be needing something to keep you out of mischief I thought you might be willing to give it a go. You did a fine job on that mare you sold to Miller up at the bank.”

It would be a pity to see her go to the knackery, I thought as I surveyed the trembling animal. She was a decent looking bay, with nice lines despite carrying too much fat on her, and she was big enough that my size shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I also thought, looking at her dark eyes, that fear rather than plain meanness was at the heart of this horse’s problem.

Getting a rope halter on her took a little bit of time, and then getting her home was an even bigger challenge. She pulled and dragged and jibbed at anything that moved, and Rosalie wound up walking on the opposite side of the road just to get out of her way. But she’d settled a little by the time we reached home and I got her into the barn and her nose buried in a hay net without too much trouble.

Inside, Hannah was unwinding her hair from some curling things and arguing with Maggie about hairstyles. I made a face, but Rosalie immediately went over to put in her two cents.

Of all the things that were helping Rosalie settle into life here in my family’s house, my sisters were some of the biggest. Elizabeth adored her and Maggie worshipped her. Rosalie was like some kind of glamorous film star to them, and even though Rosalie herself bemoaned her ‘tiny’ wardrobe it was like a treasure chest of plenty to the little girls, and they liked nothing better than when Rosalie went through her clothes or the few little accessories she had.

Hannah and Rosalie were closer in age, and slightly more wary of each other. Hannah was slightly jealous of all the attention the little girls paid to Rosalie, and much more defensive of our home when Rosalie seemed appalled by something. Rosalie, on the other hand, had made enough comments that I knew she felt like Hannah was judging her for being spoiled. But mostly these were just little undercurrents, and the two of them were quite friendly.

Rosalie took control of Hannah’s hair, and my sister sat meekly under her hands as she began to style it.

“Hannah’s going to the dance,” Maggie told me enviously. “I can’t wait until I’m old enough to have dates!”

I scowled at Hannah. “You’re going with Albie?”

She looked at me defiantly. “Yes.”

“Oh Emmett, stop being an idiot,” Rosalie interrupted. “He’s your friend, so you must think he’s not a bad person! Would you rather she went out with someone else?”

I’d rather she didn’t go out at all, I thought irritably. She’s too young to be going out without supervision, and while of course I felt that Albie was a good person at heart, I also knew what he got up to at these dances!

“Hang on!” I said, suddenly inspired. “Why don’t I go too? Rosalie, you want to go out dancing tonight?”

Hannah’s mouth dropped in horror and Rosalie just stared at me blankly, her hands full of hair.

“I can’t,” she said, indicating her belly. “It’s not done.”

“It’s done here,” I pointed out. “You’re not _so_ big yet, and it’s the modern age Rosalie…no one expects you to spend nine months hiding out in your bedroom! Tell her Hannah.”

Very reluctantly, Hannah nodded. “Sometimes girls do. No one will be shocked, anyway. At least…not more than they already are by the two of you!” She glared at me.

“All settled,” I said hastily. “Rosalie, pick out a dress and do your hair, and will someone iron me a shirt? I’m going to go and wash the smell of horse off me.” Before anyone could say anything else I bolted for the back porch and stripped down to my shorts to scrub. 

“Is it really okay for me to go?” Rosalie sounded doubtful. “I do love dancing but…”

“It’s fine,” Hannah reassured her. “Really, some of the young married women will come when they’re in your condition. It’s not just dancing, people sit and talk and it’s just a big social gathering.” She sighed mournfully. “I wish Emmett wasn’t such a busybody though, honestly!”

“Do you love Albie?” Maggie asked avidly.

“No! I don’t know…I’m only sixteen. Kitty got married when she was seventeen but Mama says she thinks she was too young and that I should wait.”

“I think that’s very wise advice.” Rosalie’s tone was light, but I could hear the pain underneath it. “Much better to wait and be sure than to make a mistake.”

There was a long silence after that, broken only when Hannah suddenly said in disgust, “Not only is Emmett barging in on my date, he expects me to iron his shirt so he has something to wear! Of all the unfair things brothers do!”

_________________________________________________

As we walked through the twilight to the dance, I kept finding my eyes drifting towards Rosalie. She had taken her arm out of the sling for the evening and the bruising on her face was completely gone. With her hair pinned up, and wearing a blue dress I hadn’t seen her wear before and her birthday sapphires at her throat and in her ears she looked so beautiful, and so much like the Rosalie I had first got to know in Rochester, that it made my heart glad.

Walking ahead of us, alongside Albie who had called for her and been somewhat dismayed to find that I was chaperoning, Hannah looked pretty and far more grown up than normal. Rosalie had done her hair in some kind of sophisticated up-do and lent her a sparkly silver scarf to wear with her church dress, and I had seen Albie’s eyes widen a little as he took her in.

“Stop worrying about her!” Rosalie hissed in my ear. “Honestly Emmett, she knows what she’s doing and this is just a fun date. So maybe YOU should relax and have some fun too?”

I laughed, and slipped my arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being no fun. It’s just weird that my little sister is growing up, and that it all happened when I wasn’t here. I guess I forgot that everything here would go on changing while I was away.”

“Everything changes, whether you want it to or not,” Rosalie said with a small sigh. “But people…they can change the most, right when you’re not expecting it.”

 


	25. Changes in a Strange World

“Everything changes, whether you want it to or not. But people…they can change the most, right when you’re not expecting it.”

Like Royce, I thought silently, who had gone from being my Prince Charming to being the monster of all my nightmares. Like me, who had gone from being the princess in the castle to the little girl alone in the woods.

But the warm arm slung casually across my shoulders told me different, because I wasn’t alone. I had Emmett and in all the changing world his strength and kindness was the one thing that had never faltered.

So maybe not _everything_ had to change.

The dance was being held in a community hall, and I could hear the music and see the light spilling out of the open doors as we approached. There were groups of people standing around outside, laughing and talking, and I felt my spirits lift. I loved parties and I loved to dance, and even if it wasn’t exactly the thing to do in my condition I made up my mind to have a good time.

It was hard to relax though, with so many people staring at me. There were whispers and the occasional giggle, and many sly comments made to Emmett, but I ignored as much as I could and subdued several of them with my most imperious stare.

“You look so pretty tonight,” Emmett said, giving me a dimpled grin and offering a cup of punch.

“Thank you.” I took a sip and made a face. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Jeb probably doctored it up a bit,” Emmett shrugged and threw back his punch in one swallow.

I drank the rest of mine but shook my head when Emmett offered more. It wasn’t that I never drank alcohol, I liked champagne and pretty coloured cocktails and had drunk plenty of them, but the taste of the whisky was too strong and the smell of it was bringing up uncomfortable memories.

_…acting like a whore…mine, bought and paid for…_

I jumped violently as a hand on my back alerted me to Emmett’s return.

“Whoa,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”

“Do you have to drink that?” I said abruptly.

“What, the punch?” Emmett sounded confused.

“The whisky that’s in it.”

Emmett shrugged. “No harm in it. Jeb made it, so it’s not going to kill me, unlike some of the other poison I’ve drunk in my day.”

“I don’t like it,” I said tightly.

“Like I said, no harm in it,” Emmett said, drinking the last dregs in his glass. “Just fun for a night out…”

“Well, you stay and have fun,” I said tersely. “I’m going home.”

I turned and made my way as quickly as I could through the crowd to the door. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn’t help it. Everything about the night was wrong, and as the memories of Royce and what he had done to me, usually under the influence of alcohol although not always, rose up in my mind I knew I had to escape.

_…acting like a whore…mine, bought and paid for…_

“Rosalie!”

I heard Emmett behind me, but I didn’t stop. I kept walking as fast as I could along the paved street, heading towards the dirt road and Emmett’s home, pretending that it wasn’t tears that were making my cheeks wet.

“Rosalie! Wait!”

Jogging, Emmett reached me and then effortlessly fell into step beside me. He didn’t touch me, and in fact for a little while he just kept pace silently. It wasn’t until we were heading down the long, dark road towards home that he spoke.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” I said stiffly. “I shouldn’t have come…I should have let you go on your own and have a good time.”

“Rosa girl, _why_? I wanted you to come. I wanted to go out and have fun with _you_. I thought you’d like it.” Emmett sounded bewildered.

_How can I explain this to you? How can I talk about the ghosts that are haunting me when you’ve done everything in your power to chase them away?_

“I appreciate that you wanted to take me out,” I said slowly. “I thought I would like it; you’re right that I like dances and parties. And it means a lot that you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“Embarrassed? Because of…this?” Emmett’s big hand spread across the curve of my belly. “Oh Rosalie, never. Do you know how beautiful you are? I know you need time, and I’m going to give it to you, but I’ve loved you for a long time. Right from the very first moment I saw you…I thought you were like the most beautiful angel in heaven, and I still think that. I want to be with you, baby and all, and I mean that.”

“Oh Emmett.” Impulsively I turned and hugged him, feeling the hard bump of the baby in between us and the way my heart felt so much lighter just for talking with him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t like you drinking, that’s all. You didn’t do anything, but just the way it smelled made me…remember things. He was always worse when he’d been drinking.”

A spasm of pain crossed Emmett’s face. “I hate him so much for what he did to you…and I’m so damn sorry that I never stepped in sooner! I didn’t know everything, I never knew he hurt you, but I knew enough that I should have done something. Do you forgive me for not stopping him, or not giving you a way out sooner?”

  _Oh, my heart…_ “That was never up to you,” I whispered. “What could you have done?”

“Beat the shit out of him,” Emmett suggested with a lopsided smile. “I’m not bad with my fists you know…not all dances were as peaceful as that one tonight and I’ve had my fair share of fights!”

I couldn’t help laughing. I’d seen the scars on Emmett’s knuckles, and I’d guessed as much. “But if you’d done that, he would have had you thrown in prison,” I pointed out. “Even if all you’d done was look at him the wrong way you’d have lost the job and you wouldn’t have been able to help your family. And I wouldn’t have had you at all, if that had been the way it happened. So please, don’t ever think that I blame you at all. There was never anything you could have done.”

Emmett held me closer, and I felt him lower his face and kiss the top of my head, before he held my hands and the two of us turned towards home.

___________________________________________________

I woke in the morning to find Elizabeth snuggled in beside me, talking quietly with her Rosie doll. Despite having her own bed she liked to sneak into other beds in the middle of the night and sleep cuddled up against various members of her family. I was oddly flattered to wake up and realise that I was now considered part of that for her.

Feeling me stir she wriggled around and flung her arms around me. “Good morning Rosalie!” she chirped.

“Good morning to you too,” I answered, yawning and stretching. The empty beds and abandoned blankets showed that Maggie and Hannah were already up, and I wondered again how lazy they must all think I was. I was always the last one awake in the morning.

“Your belly was poking me,” Elizabeth said in disapproval.

“What?” I said, startled.

“Like this.” Elizabeth gave me a very gentle poke in my belly, and almost immediately I felt a strong kick from the little passenger inside. “See, it did it again!”

“I can’t believe you can feel that!” I was absurdly pleased. “That’s my baby!”

“There’s a baby in you?” Elizabeth said in surprise. “I thought you just had a fat tummy.”

I laughed. “No, it’s a baby.”

Elizabeth was wriggling again, with excitement this time. “A real baby? Can I hold it? And play with it? I’ll be very, very careful!”

I hugged her until she was still. “Yes, you can hold the baby when it comes,” I told her. “I’m sure it will love having someone to give it cuddles.”

“But who will be the baby’s daddy?” Elizabeth asked a moment later, anxiety clear in her voice. “Is Emmett going to be the daddy? Or my daddy? He’s got lots of kids already so he knows what to do and Emmett doesn’t know anything. Or maybe you could choose Mr Shepherd the schoolteacher to be the baby’s daddy? He’s nice and hardly ever yells and only uses the strap on the really bad kids like Will.”

I giggled, even though tears prickled at my eyes at the thought of my fatherless little baby. It should have been born into the endless wealth and privilege of the King family, and yet I’d taken it away to…what?

“Don’t worry,” I said, talking as much to myself as to Elizabeth. “We’ll work something out for this baby. Now come on little Miss Trouble, let’s get up. What’s happening today?”

“Emmett and Will went hunting already,” she told me, jumping from the bed and swinging Rosie doll by her feet. “They want to get a deer and if they do Daddy said he would use the skin and make me some new slippers. Hannah is going to make blackberry pancakes for breakfast…”

Still chattering, Elizabeth disappeared out the bedroom door, and after I took off my nightgown and pulled on one of my increasingly ill-fitting dresses I went out after her.

Hannah indeed made blackberry pancakes for breakfast and they were delicious. Despite being two years younger than me, Hannah McCarty made me feel as foolish and incompetent as a child sometimes. My mother had taught me to cook, but not on a wood burning stove like the McCarty’s had and certainly not with ingredients like rabbit. As for cleaning, I’d never had to do that in my life, unlike Hannah who was probably born holding a broom. She was lovely and never tried to make me feel awkward, but her skills played on insecurities I hadn’t even realised I had until I came to Tennessee.

When I was finishing the last of my pancakes, Miss Adeline came into the room with a cardboard box. “Patterns,” she told me, placing the box beside me. “You said you can sew? Can you follow a pattern?”

“Yes,” I said cautiously. “I think so.” Mother had seen to it that I had lessons in fancy needlework and knitting and lace crochet, but I had also learned plain sewing from Vera’s mother and was fairly sure I could follow a basic pattern. “What do you want to make?”

“I thought it was about time we made a start on sewing for that baby of yours,” Miss Adeline said cheerfully. “I have patterns here for a basic baby nightdress, as well as knitting patterns for cardigans and bootees and hats and diaper covers. We can go through the bureau and see what materials and yarn we can find, and then we’ll know what we have to buy.” She eyed me carefully. “It’s probably not what you thought you’d do for your baby,” she said finally.

“Not exactly,” I said truthfully, remembering with a sudden stab the silver teething ring I’d bought the day my pregnancy had been confirmed. “But it will do fine. I _can_ sew, and I can make these things nicely.”

“Good girl.” That was all Miss Adeline said, but I felt warm with her approval. She was always encouraging, but she didn’t praise unless she really meant it.

We went through to the living room after the breakfast dishes were done. Unsurprisingly, Hannah, Maggie and Elizabeth all came along too. It was one of the hardest things for me about living with Emmett’s family, that nothing was every private. Every single activity or chore was undertaken with an audience of curious and opinionated McCartys, and I almost never had a moment to myself.

“I keep all my fabric in the bureau in here,” Miss Adeline told me, pulling out the bottom drawer and beginning to sort through the contents with her usual brisk efficiency. “The pieces we’ll need for some newborn clothes won’t be very big so we should find plenty.”

Whatever visions I still cherished of my little baby dressed in fine white lawn and linen vanished with a quiet sigh. The fabric Miss Adeline was piling up on the floor varied widely, but none of it was what I had been dreaming of. There were offcuts from dresses and skirts and blouses, some of which I recognised, and then there were outgrown clothes that could be repurposed. None of it was the pretty pastel shades that I had always imagined my baby wearing. But I swallowed my disappointment and made a small pile of pieces that were suitable. An old navy dress of Elizabeth’s could be cut down, some flowered offcuts from when they’d made Hannah a blouse, a checked shirt from Emmett or his father that had been torn right across the front, but that would give more than enough fabric for a baby nightgown from the back and sleeves.

Miss Adeline had just opened a drawer full of yarn when we suddenly heard shouts from the yard. “That’s Will,” she said abruptly. “Something’s happened.”

My heart went cold. Emmett had been out hunting with Will…if Will was back, where was Emmett? Scrambling to my feet I followed Miss Adeline out in to the yard.

“Ma!” Will, covered in blood, threw himself at his mother. “It’s Emmett, he got hurt…there was a bear and there’s so much blood Ma, and Emmett told me to come home and get Pa because he can’t walk and I need, I need…”

It was as though the world fell away from under my feet. Emmett was hurt and bleeding, alone in the forest…a wordless cry forced itself from my lips.

Miss Adeline’s face was white. “Maggie. Run to the Allison’s and get your daddy and Mr Allison and Jeb. Fast as you can! Will? Where’s Emmett? Will? Where were you hunting?”

Will’s gasped out a garbled explanation in between sobs. “There was that bear I’ve been seeing Ma. Emmett got between her and her baby…it was an accident, honest! We weren’t doing anything wrong, but the bear attacked Emmett and clawed him all up. I threw a stick and then Emmett got off a shot and the bears ran away, but oh Ma, Emmett was all bloody and ripped open!”

“Can you tell me where you were? Where is Emmett?”

“I don’t know, we went a fair way…I’ll be able to find it but I don’t know if I can tell you.” Will looked terrified. “We’ve got to go and get Emmett!”

“We’ll wait for your daddy,” Miss Adeline said, smoothing his hair with a steady hand. “He can bring Emmett home.”

I didn’t know how she could be so calm, while I could barely breathe. Will’s account, as brief and lacking in detail as it was, had terrified me. Surely there had to be some kind of mistake? It couldn’t be true that Emmett, bright and indomitable Emmett, had been hurt so badly!

I could feel myself shaking and, clutching a post, I sank down onto the porch with a small whimper. Miss Adeline looked over and said sharply, “Rosalie, get a hold of yourself. We don’t know anything yet. Hannah, get Rosalie a drink of water.”

Silently Hannah obeyed, and I clutched the jar of water like it could stop me from drowning as I watched Mr McCarty return with the Allison men and the three of them disappear into the forest, following Will. They were carrying a door with them, in case they needed to carry Emmett back.

_It will only be because he’s too injured to walk! It won’t be worse than that, it won’t!_

For a long moment, those of us left behind were silent in our shared fear. Stephen and Elizabeth clung to their mother, and Hannah and Maggie held hands as I sat on the porch. Deep inside my baby was moving, rolling and kicking, and I thought how peculiar that I was sitting here feeling such elemental life, when Emmett lay out in the forest maybe dying.

“We need to be ready,” Miss Adeline announced at last, stirring us all back into action. “Will said Emmett’s hurt bad and he’s going to need tending. Hannah, fill the big pot and put it on to boil, and Maggie, you can scrub the kitchen table. I’ll find an old sheet to have ready for bandages. Elizabeth and Stephen, you wait out here with Rosalie and call us as soon as you see them.”

I would have lived every moment of my marriage to Royce over again rather than relive the agony of waiting for Emmett’s return. To not know what was happening, to have no idea how badly he was hurt, or whether he was even alive or dead was nothing less than torturous. To realise how deeply I loved him and how empty the world would seem without him, right when losing him was a very real possibility, was like having my heart ripped out.

_Emmett please, please come back…I need you. I love you. Loving you has been the very best, and rightest thing I’ve ever done…please come home and let me tell you._


	26. Emmett and the Bear

The sun beat down on my face, making me squeeze my eyes shut against the invading brightness. I was hot, too hot, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself move to the shade.

I could hear the buzzing of flies. _Must be something attracting them_ , I thought drowsily. _Biting little bastards._

The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and suddenly I was shivering with cold. _What am I doing? Why do I feel so strange? Something hurts, and I’m so tired…am I drunk? Pa’s going to kill me._

I could hear birds, and the noise of wind through the trees. Somewhere nearby a branch cracked, and I heard the rush of its fall. _I missed the woods when I was in New York. I want to show Rosalie…Rosalie. I wish she was here._

“Sweet Jesus Christ, look at him! Emmett, Emmett, lad…”

I forced my eyes open, seeing Pa leaning over me, his face seeming to waver oddly. “Pa,” I said, but I don’t know if he heard me.

“It’s all right Emmett,” Pa said gruffly. “We’re here now, and we’re going to get you home.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, not even clear what I was apologising for. Nothing made sense. “I didn’t…I don’t know what happened.”

“It was a bear.” Mr Allison’s face loomed in to view beside my father’s. “You were attacked by a bear.”

“Typical, Emmett…getting yourself in trouble _again._ ” It was Jeb Allison too, but he looked so shaken, not at all like the usual insouciant Jeb.

“Emmett, Emmett…” My brother Will was close by my face, his own face red and blotchy with tears. “I’m sorry, I ran as quick as I could.”

It came back to me then. Laughing with Will and then seeing the bear, not realising that we were caught between her and her cub. The mama bear had done what they do though, roared in to protect her baby and I hadn’t been quick enough to get out of the way. I moaned, as the pain began making itself felt again where her great claws had raked across my chest.

“We’ll get you home lad,” Pa said hoarsely.

I screamed when they moved me on to the door so they could stretcher me home. I didn’t want to make so much noise, but the pain of the movement felt like I was being torn apart all over again, and I couldn’t stop the howling. I was glad when I felt darkness slipping down over my eyes, gently cutting out my senses and sending me into oblivion.

I drifted in and out of consciousness as they carried me home. The pain came and went, as did my ability to speak and respond to the people around me. I could smell the scent of my own blood, warm in the hot sun, and feel the flies buzzing around. I wondered vaguely, as I began to feel less and less, if I were dying.

The next time I opened my eyes though, there she was. Blurred and glowing with the sun behind her, her face so close to mine I could have touched her if I could have moved my arms, it was the angel. For a moment I didn’t know if I was alive or dead, and if this was an angel taking me to heaven or my own angel girl Rosalie here on earth.

“Emmett, oh Emmett…”

_Rosalie._

I felt my mouth form the word, but I’m not sure if she heard. Everything was going numb, and a moment later the world began to contract around me and the darkness came encroaching and I had to let go. My last thought was of her.

_I love you Rosalie._

Pain brought me back again. Pain like fire, burning through my chest and arm, the heat mounting hotter and hotter until I was screaming. My ability to move had come back, but now someone was holding me down, strong arms keeping me pinned down to a hard surface. I strained against the restraining holds on me, screaming as another layer of fire was applied to my body.

“Oh, do you _have_ to do this?” It was Rosalie, and I opened two bleary eyes to see her standing by my mother, her hands pressed to her mouth and her beautiful eyes gleaming with tears.

“We’ve got to wash out the wounds,” Ma said tersely. “You can either help me or go outside with the little ones.” She looked across at Hannah, who was holding a steaming cloth in her very fingertips. “As hot as you can stand it, Hannah.”

Wincing, Hannah laid the cloth across my chest, and once again I couldn’t hold back the agonised screams. Sweet Mother of Mercy but it hurt!

“Emmett, it’s all right.” Rosalie’s face came close to mine, smiling tremulously. Tenderly she took a damp cloth, warm instead of the burning hot ones they were scorching me with on my chest and shoulder, and wiped my face. “You’re going to be fine.”

Somehow I managed to raise my hand enough to grasp hers. “Don’t leave me,” I said hoarsely, “Rosalie, stay with me.”

“Of course I will,” she murmured, and as my eyes closed against the pain I felt the silkiness of her hair touching my skin as she lowered her head and brushed her lips lightly across mine.

Right at that moment I didn’t care if I lived or died. Not when I had just lived through the most perfect moment of my life, with my lips on Rosalie’s. And if I had to die, perhaps holding her hand and looking into the depths of her violet eyes wouldn’t be a bad way to go…

_Sweet Jesus make it stop! This hurts so fucking much!_

I don’t know how long it took, how long Ma kept up the washing, scalding me again and again as she tried to cleanse the wounds of dirt. All I know is that it felt like forever, as Pa and Jeb kept me pinned on to the kitchen table and Rosalie held my hand and her beautiful face gave me something to focus on when it was particularly bad. But the blood kept dripping and my strength dipped lower until at last I closed my eyes and slid away for good, deep into the nothingness.

______________________________________________

“Emmett? Emmett?”

I heard voices, but I was too tired to respond until I heard Rosalie, and felt a feather-light touch on my cheek that I knew it had to be her. I struggled to open my eyes, finally managing it to see her beautiful angel face bending close to me.

“Rosalie,” I muttered, but when I went to reach out to her I couldn’t stop the harsh, jagged scream that came out as I moved my body.

“Oh, don’t move!” Rosalie exclaimed. “For goodness’ sake, you’ve been nearly torn apart by a bear…lie still or you’ll hurt yourself more!”

I heard my Ma’s low chuckle. “I left you in good hands then Emmett.” I turned my head and saw her coming towards me with a steaming mug. She looked unusually tall, and I realised I’d been moved from the kitchen table to the floor in the living room.

“Mama.” The baby word slipped out before I could stop it, the same way the tears were unstoppably welling up in my eyes from the excruciating pain.

Ma’s face was soft as she knelt by my side and cupped the side of my face with her work worn hand. “I know Em. I know it hurts.”

“Is it really bad?” I was fiercely glad that my Pa and the Allisons weren’t there to hear me as my voice shook. “It feels like…like my whole chest has been ripped apart…”

“It nearly was,” Ma said honestly. “That bear got you good- there are gouges from your collar bone down to your belly…you were lucky.” She gave me a shaky smile. “You were _so lucky_ Em. But now, we can’t go worrying about what happened, we just have to try and get you better. I want you to drink this, it’ll help a little with the pain.”

Rosalie’s face was white and tense as she took my head and lifted it until I was lying in her lap, nearly biting through my lip as I tried to stop the swearing. Every movement caused agony.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered, almost chanting it under her breath as she winced.

When I was finally situated Ma held the mug up to my lips and I struggled to take in the hot, sweet liquid. I didn’t know what was in it and I didn’t care, as long as it did something to dull the pain of my injuries. I drank as much as I could, but everything hurt so much that it wasn’t a lot. When Ma took the mug away from my mouth I looked down my body, where my chest looked like nothing so much as a slab of raw meat. Just the sight of it made me gag.

“I’m going to make a poultice for those wounds,” Ma said, when I was done. “Rosalie will stay here with you.”

Dizzy and dazed, I mumbled assent. I was just so _tired_ …for a moment I didn’t know why I was looking at Rosalie upside down, and then I remembered that I had my head in her lap. _Comfortable…_

Rosalie combed her hands across my forehead and back through my curls, gently teasing any tangles free. “You’re going to be fine,” she murmured, combing her fingers through my curls again and again. “You’re an idiot to get hurt so badly! But you’re going to be fine, it’s going to be fine…” She hesitated. “I’m going to put your head back on the pillow.”

I bit my lip and tried not to make too much noise as she moved me as gently as she could from her lap to a pillow, but I couldn’t help my muffled screams and groans, and both Rosalie and I were pale and sweating by the time she had me back on the floor with a pillow under my head.

“Sweet fucking hell!” I gasped, blinking to clear my eyes of the tears that had filled my eyes. “I can’t…”

“Lie still,” Rosalie ordered me, but although her voice was sharp she sat close to me on the floor, stroking my hair with steady fingers. “You lost a lot of blood, and those wounds…” She hesitated.

“They’re bad,” I said flatly.

“Yes.” Rosalie didn’t flinch as she looked down at my bare, mutilated chest. “But you’ll get better. You’ll heal.”

I felt like I was floating, at a blessed remove from the pain. Rosalie’s hair was mussed and her dress was stained with spatters of my blood, but she had never looked more beautiful to me.

“You look…like an angel,” I said drowsily.

Rosalie laughed shakily. “Did you hit your head, too?”

“Stay with me.” It felt like a lead blanket was weighing me down, all my limbs heavy and unmoving. “Don’t go away.”

“Never.”

I couldn’t keep my eyes open, but I heard her whispered words and felt the press of her lips against my forehead and I smiled.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want me…I’m not going anywhere.”

____________________________________________________________

She stayed. Through the rest of the pain-filled day, as I lay on the hard living room floor and suffered, Rosalie was always there. Ma too, bringing in tea and poultices, which she kept on my chest even when the heat of them made me scream and the smell of them made me gag.

“We need to make sure to draw any infection out,” Ma told me severely when I whimpered piteously and tried to move one that seemed particularly painful.

“He needs a doctor,” Rosalie said, her voice determined.

“A doctor can’t do anything we can’t do,” Ma said tersely. “Spend all that money for what? The doctor to tell us just to keep on doing what I already know to do?”

“But maybe he knows something more?” Rosalie argued. “Maybe he has some kind of medicine to stop it getting infected? And the money doesn’t matter, I told you…I can sell the rings and there’ll be plenty of money!”

Ma didn’t answer, but carried the soiled cloths from the poultices out of the room. Rosalie gave an exclamation of irritation.

“Poultices! What is this, the dark ages? Doctors have all kinds of medicines and creams and lotions that can heal!” she fumed. “Am I supposed to watch you die because there’s no money and they’re all too proud to take mine?”

“Not…dying…” I mumbled, although I was suddenly less sure. “Ma’s a good…healer.”

“And how many other times has she nursed someone who was nearly torn in half by a bear?” Rosalie countered. “Emmett, it looks really bad. I’m sorry, but it does…I was so scared when Will came home and said you were hurt, but we didn’t know how badly. I thought you were dead, and I couldn’t…I can’t lose you.” Her voice shook. “I can’t lose you…I can’t stand to just sit here and watch you die.”

I tried to force myself to respond to her. All I wanted was to take her into my arms and hold her, wrap her up in my arms and surround her with my warmth and love, but I couldn’t even move my fingertips. Couldn’t even open my eyes or move my lips to make the words that danced in my mind. _I love you Rosalie._

____________________________________________________

It was night when I opened my eyes again. Candles lit the room, and Rosalie’s hair glimmered in the flickering light. _Hello, angel girl._ She touched my forehead with cool hands and then sat back, and a man leaned over me in her place. The doctor.

His hands weren’t as gentle as Rosalie’s were. I probably would have screamed if I’d had the strength, but I didn’t even have the energy for that. Rosalie held my hands in hers, and I thought that maybe she knew he was hurting me when she squeezed hard every time I wanted to scream.

He spoke to Ma and Pa and Rosalie in quiet tones that I couldn’t hear and then he was gone. Ma came back to me with another steaming poultice she applied to one of the wounds, and Rosalie tipped a spoonful of some thick, syrupy medicine down my throat.

“I told you we were doing all that could be done for him,” Ma said across my body to Rosalie, but her voice was kind.

“I had to be sure,” Rosalie muttered.

“It wasn’t about the money,” Ma went on, “We could have found it, or worked out a plan, the doctor is good about that…you didn’t have to sell your rings.”

“I don’t care anyway,” Rosalie said stubbornly. “I hate the sight of the wretched things, and now they’re gone. Emmett’s had the doctor, and there’s enough money to buy everything I could possibly need for the baby.”

“I appreciate it though Rosalie, you selling your rings for the doctor. For Emmett.” Ma’s voice was quiet and intent. “Thank you for that. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for doing what you did for my boy.”

“I love him,” Rosalie said softly. “I guess I didn’t know how much until I faced losing him…he has to be okay Miss Adeline, he has to be.”

“Well, he’s not out of the woods yet, but let’s keep on working and see what we can do for him,” Ma said practically.

_She loves me._


	27. Taking Care of Our Own

The fever began late that night.

I was alone, watching over Emmett. I had slept a little earlier, on the sofa in the living room so I was still near him, but I had woken again and was now watching while Miss Adeline caught some rest in the room next door.

Asleep, Emmett became increasingly restless. He tossed his head from side to side and whimpered, his hands groping at the wounds on his chest. Before he could touch them I snatched them away, taking his hot, dry hands in mine.

“It hurts,” he mumbled. “Rosa…don’t go away…”

I touched his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature. He was warm, but it was a warm night and I had no experience with fevers. Perhaps some water.

He tried not to show how much it hurt him to be lifted up a little to drink, and he gulped down the jam jar full of water and asked for more. When he was done I took a cloth and wiped his face with cool water, hoping to make him feel more comfortable.

Emmett was still and quiet then, watching me with eyes that glittered in the candlelight. Caught up in his gaze I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and stroking his face. Inside, the baby kicked and rolled, and I smiled as I took Emmett’s hand.

“I want to show you something.”

I could feel his hesitation as I took his hand and pulled it towards me, but then he stretched his fingers and cupped it over the bulge of my belly. For a long moment we sat, silent and motionless, before the baby once again kicked, right against Emmett’s hand.

“Hey! I felt it move!” Emmett grinned at me, and for the first time since he’d been carried out of the forest I saw his dimples. “That’s so crazy…I didn’t know you could feel it on the outside.” He half laughed as he felt the baby move again, stopping with a moan when the effort hurt him. “I reckon it’s a boy…what do you think?”

I shrugged. Secretly I wanted a girl, a little blonde girl who would be nothing like Royce and instead would be mine alone, but I didn’t want to say that aloud. “I don’t know.”

But Emmett’s attention was drifting now, his face taking on the white, strained look it got when the pain was bad. I lifted his hand off my belly and kissed his fingers, then tipped another spoonful of medicine down his throat so that he might sleep.

He slept, but it wasn’t an easy sleep. His temperature rose and he moaned and twitched in his sleep, waking frequently despite the medicine the doctor had given us for him. Around dawn I was scared enough to go and wake Miss Adeline.

She came right out, throwing a robe on over her nightgown, and knelt by Emmett’s side. She winced as she saw the blood on his hands from when I hadn’t been able to stop him from blindly groping at his wounds, and then she frowned as she touched a hand to his forehead.

“Is it bad?” I strove not to sound as terrified as I felt.

“I expected some level of fever,” Miss Adeline said, avoiding a straight answer. She disappeared for a moment and then came back with a basin of clean water and a cloth. “We must do what we can to manage it. Sponge down his face and neck to try and cool him a little. I’m going to restrain his hands so he can’t keep touching the wounds.”

Miss Adeline tore a strip from the sheet we had been tearing up for bandages and tied one end around each of Emmett’s wrists, running the strip behind his body so could no longer moved his hands more than a few inches. It was a simple but effective restraint, although the sight of it being used on Emmett made my eyes burn with unshed tears.

_Please get better Emmett. I can’t bear the alternative._

Emmett continued to tug uselessly at the restraint, whimpering and moaning in his fevered sleep. I kept cool cloths on his forehead and wiped down his sweating face and neck, determined to be there every time he flickered back into wakefulness and looked for me.

I only left when my own need for the outhouse could no longer be ignored, or when Mr McCarty and Miss Adeline had to help Emmett to relieve himself. On one of these trips out of the sickroom I stripped down to my underwear on the back porch and scrubbed myself with cold, fresh water, washing away all the sweat and grime. I was only slightly embarrassed to be caught so nearly naked when Elizabeth came wandering out, Rosie dolly tucked under an arm.

Much to my surprise she came over and kissed my bare stomach. “Hello baby!” she chirped, before she looked up at me with a much more serious look in her eyes. “Emmett is very sick, isn’t he?”

I rubbed myself dry with the old, scratchy towel. “I think so.”

“Will he stay in bed for a long time? When Mama was sick she stayed in bed for a long time.” Elizabeth took the face washer and wiped her doll’s face. “I used to read to Mama in bed…I could read to Emmett. I’m a much better reader now.”

I stooped and kissed her forehead. “I’m sure he’d like that when he’s feeling just a little bit better. He’s supposed to sleep now, but it will take a while for his wounds to heal, and he’d love to listen to you read while he’s getting better.”

I couldn’t bring myself to face what it would mean if Emmett _didn’t_ get better.

The dark thoughts crept more and more frequently into my mind as the day passed and his temperature soared. Despite the poultices his wounds were weeping and inflamed. The doctor came again and looked grave as he examined Emmett. He offered to take him into the hospital but admitted that there was little that could be done, and Miss Adeline shook her head and said that we would keep him at home.

“He has round the clock nursing care here,” she told the doctor. “That’s better than having him at the hospital.”

Emmett certainly was never left alone. During the long, hot afternoon there were always someone by his side to replace the cold compresses on his forehead, to hold up his head and offer sips of water whenever he was awake and lucid enough to drink. Often several people, since I never left him and his mother spent every spare minute with him, the others all coming in and out too. He was offered food but didn’t want it, until I asked Will and Stephen to take some of the money I had got for my rings and buy him some oranges. I peeled them and cut them into segments that I fed to him myself, his hands still being restrained, and he ate the sweet fruit gratefully.

“Thank you,” he muttered hoarsely, as he swallowed the final piece and I wiped his hot, pale face. His eyes were dull, and he closed them wearily and I soon lost him back to the fevered, dream-filled sleep.

 Miss Adeline alternated her warm poultices with cool cloths in an attempt to draw the poisons from the wounds and then to cool Emmett down. He no longer screamed when they touched him, but he arched his back and jerked against the restraints, and I hated to see how much pain he was in. The medicine the doctor had given us seemed to help with that, although nothing helped for long. Every period of quiet, healing sleep would end with the restless, delusional half-sleep of the fevered. Emmett mumbled then, mostly unintelligibly, although sometimes he called for his mother and sometimes he called for me. Once he called me angel and told me he loved me, before closing his eyes with a moan.

His fever rose higher, until it seemed like his flesh was burning, radiating heat as I sat close beside him. Mr McCarty came in and prayed at his side, which made the terror rise in my heart and the tears threaten. I refused to give in and let them fall though. I would be strong for as long as Emmett needed me to be; I wouldn’t be tearful or needy when he was suffering so much.

Mr McCarty looked at me for a moment when he’d finished his prayers, and then he gave me a smile that was so like Emmett’s I was startled.

“Come on child,” he said kindly. “You come along outside with me.”

“But Emmett…” I protested, touching his hot, damp forehead.

“He’ll be fine with his mother and Maggie for company,” Mr McCarty said placidly. “You could do with a break…you come and help me with the cows and we’ll get some good fresh milk for the boy.”

I followed him out of the house. Over to the pasture the three cows, and their calves, were all crowded by the gate, and when Mr McCarty opened it they trotted over to the barn.

“I shut them up separate of a night,” Mr McCarty told me, in his slow, quiet way. “That way the calves can’t take the milk, so the girls fill up overnight and I can milk ‘em in the morning. But we’ll get a bit out of one of them tonight, for Emmett.”

He caught one of the cows with a rope halter and tied her into the milking stall, then shooed the other cows and the calves into separate pens. This was a routine they were used to, and they did as they were bid with no fuss.

“Have you ever milked a cow?”

I laughed in sheer disbelief. “Are you _joking?_ I mean…no.”

Mr McCarty chuckled. “You city girls! It’s about time you learned lass. Come over here and sit down.”

Too baffled to object I sat down on the little milking stool, shoulder to shoulder with Mr McCarty as he knelt beside me with the pail. “You need to be gentle with her,” he told me seriously. “Gentle but firm squeezing…see, like this.”

I watched his strong, big hands handle the cow’s udders and listened to the sounds the milk made as it hissed into the bucket. After so many hours spent smelling the harsh, ugly smell of Emmett’s mutilated body and listening to his noises of pain, the scent of hay and cow and milk, and the quiet sounds of the barn were an unexpected pleasure, and I felt myself beginning to relax. I rested my head against the cow’s warm, hairy hide and watched.

“You try now,” Mr McCarty invited, and somewhat hesitantly I tried to arrange my hands the way his had been. “That’s right lass…firm but gentle.”

He laid his hands over mine in guidance, and in only moments I had the milk coming in steady streams into the pail. It gave me an odd sense of satisfaction, to accomplish this task that was so far away from all the skills that had always been expected of me.

“You’re doing well,” Mr McCarty said with quiet approval. “You’ve got nice hands for it, if they’re a bit soft still.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” I admitted.

“You’ve got a knack for it.” Mr McCarty rubbed the cow’s flank. “You’re a good girl Rosalie. I’ve watched you try and settle in here…I’m guessing it’s pretty different to what you had at home?”

I nodded, still keeping my eyes on my hands and the milk frothing in the pail. “Emmett wrote to you about it…it was very different to this.”

“Yes. But I’ve watched how hard you’ve been trying since you got here. You’re a strong, determined woman Rosalie, and Miss Adeline and I admire that in you.”

I blushed, but I was secretly thrilled at the praise. Mr McCarty was a quiet man, but his few words always carried great weight and to have his approval meant a great deal to me. He’d barely spoken five words to me before this.

Mr McCarty peered into the bucket and said, “We’ll leave it there, that’s enough milk for Emmett to have some. Nothing like some good fresh milk for building up your strength.”

“You think he’s going to be okay then?” I said, almost immediately wishing I hadn’t spoken. What if he said _no_?

Mr McCarty scratched the cow behind the ear and said thoughtfully. “Aye, I think he’ll be okay. He’s a mighty strong one, our Emmett. If anyone could get himself mauled by a bear and make it out to tell the tale it’d be him.”

I laughed shakily. “He does seem to have a gift for getting himself out of trouble.”

He gave me another one of the gentle smiles that reminded me so much of his son. “But if he maybe doesn’t make it, I want you to know that you’re still welcome here and you’ll have a safe home here for as long as you want one. Our Emmett loves you, and that makes you one of us. We’ll always take care of our own.” With another smile he handed me the pail of milk. “Take that inside now, and see if you can get Emmett to take it.”

Emmett did drink the milk, but it didn’t do any good. For a long time nothing seemed to do any good, as his fever burned steadily hotter. His periods of lucidity became shorter and further apart, and I hated leaving him even long enough to go to the outhouse in case I missed him.

“Rosalie.”

“I’m here.” I took his hand again, feeling the trembling of his fingers as he closed them around mine. “I’m here.”

“Stay here.”

“I am,” I promised him. “You know I won’t leave you.”

There were others in the room, but he had eyes only for me as he tried to smile. “I mean…later. Don’t go back to Rochester…even if…promise me you’ll stay here. My family will take care of you. I can’t stand to think…don’t go back.”

“Oh, shut up!” I snapped, terrified to hear him even allude to his own death. “Of course I’m not going back. But you’re going to be here to look after me yourself, Emmett McCarty! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get better!”

Emmett’s laugh ended in a choked moan, and I gently cupped his face in my hands. “Shhh…I’m sorry,” I whispered. “But you can’t think like that. You have to fight it.”

“I’m trying,” he said hoarsely. “I’m so tired…”

Oblivious to anyone else watching, I pressed my lips against his dry, cracked mouth. “But you have to get better Emmett…I need you.”

Emmett’s eyes glimmered with the faintest hint of a smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Forty-eight hours after it began, Emmett’s fever broke, his wounds began to look pinker and healthier, and we knew he was going to be okay. I kissed his face, then went to bed and slept for fourteen hours straight. I dreamed of Emmett and woke with a smile on my face.


	28. A Good Choice

“It doesn’t fit!”

I blinked into wakefulness at the sound of Rosalie’s furious shriek.

“That’s it. I have _nothing- NOTHING!-_ to wear!”

I strained to see through to the kitchen, and saw Rosalie stamping in with a shirt that gaped open over her belly and a look of complete outrage on her face. “This blouse was the last thing I owned that buttoned up over my stomach and now it doesn’t! What am I supposed to do now?”

Hannah giggled behind her hands, and Ma looked up at Rosalie with a long-suffering sigh. “Wear something of Jack’s or Emmett’s…they’ll fit.”

“I can’t wear _men’s_ clothes!” Rosalie was so appalled I couldn’t stop my grin.

“Well, it’s either that or wear your delicates,” Ma snapped. “I can’t produce maternity clothes out of thin air, particularly not when I have my hands full with nursing. Wear one of the men’s shirts and we’ll see about going shopping this afternoon, since you’ve got money now.”

“Ohhhh…this is ridiculous!” Rosalie flung herself out of the kitchen and a moment later I heard the door of the armoire slam into the wall as she opened it with force. “I can’t believe I am so FAT!”

Ma came in to the living room with some oats, which she proceeded to try and spoon feed me.

“I can do it myself!” I grabbed the spoon, wincing as the movement pulled across my chest. Every single move I made hurt, but I was determined not to be a burden and just gritted my teeth as I struggled to feed myself lying down.

Ma watched with mild amusement. “You always were a stubborn child. Always determined to ‘do _my own self!_ ’” she said, mimicking a baby’s voice, before she added in her regular tone, “I thought you might want to get up today?”

“Yes, I would,” I answered. I was sick and tired of looking up at the living room ceiling and suffering the indignity of Pa helping me pee. “Did Rosalie find herself some clothes?”

“That girl is certainly theatrical,” Ma sighed. “I’m assuming she’s found something to wear, although she’s probably off sulking about it…you didn’t choose the easiest girl in the world, Emmett!”

“I didn’t choose her,” I said simply. “She and I…it just is.”

Rosalie appeared in the door then, and I didn’t bother to hide the smile that curved across my face just at the sight of her. Wearing an old plaid shirt of Pa’s with a dusty skirt and bare feet, her hair bound up in an untidy knot at the back of her head, she was a long way from that vision of perfection I’d first seen at her wedding. But as she smiled at me from the doorway I didn’t think she’d ever looked so beautiful, because now she was looking at _me_. And in a few minutes, when Ma was gone and we were alone, she was going to kiss _me_ , and say that she loved _me_ , and I would know that now she was mine.

“Nice shirt,” I said, unable to resist and nearly ruining everything as the thundercloud descended on her face and she kicked my leg. “Just kidding!”

“You’re hilarious,” she muttered grumpily.

“You’re fine like that,” Ma sighed. “You look quite respectable Rosalie, but if you like you can go into town this afternoon and buy yourself some maternity clothes.”

Rosalie looked horrified. “I’m not going out in _public_ like this!”

I couldn’t help laughing, even though it hurt so bad that it brought tears to my eyes. “Maggie’ll go and do it for you. She loves shopping.”

Rosalie brightened. “She won’t mind. I’ll go and see.”

She hurried out of the room, and Ma looked after her and shook her head. “I never saw you with a city girl, Emmett.” She peeled the bandages off my chest, and I bit down hard on my knuckles to stop myself from screaming when she had to tug harder on parts that had stuck to me. “But Rosalie tries her hardest, I’ll give her that. She wouldn’t leave your side the whole time you were so bad.”

“I know.” My memories of the days of fever were hazy, but the one thing that stood out clearly was Rosalie’s angel face hovering above me. “I remember that.”

“Maggie and Hannah are going to go,” Rosalie said, returning and lowering herself to sit beside me with a long exhalation. “I told them to buy themselves something too, anything…they’ll have fun.”

Ma looked at her in disapproval. “They don’t need anything Rosalie. You ought to be saving that money…you’ll be glad to have it when the baby comes.” She looked down at me with a faint frown. “And Emmett won’t be able to work for weeks even if something comes available. You’re not to go _near_ that horse either. I’m sure you’ve got a couple of broken ribs under the gouges, so you are going to have to take care of yourself. Rosalie and I did not nurse you through that fever to have you go and make yourself worse.”

“Yes Ma,” I said, instantly feeling guilty. Getting mauled by the bear hadn’t exactly been my fault, but it still meant that I’d be sitting around idle for most of the summer. Sure, Rosalie had the money she’d got for selling the rings, but the thought of me being supported at all by Royce King’s money made the sourness rise in my throat.

“I don’t really care what Miss Adeline says about the money,” Rosalie said, a little defiantly once Ma had left. “I hated those rings and I’m glad they’re gone. Anything you want, let me know and I’ll buy it for you. Anything to make you better again.” She picked up my hand and kissed my fingers.

“I don’t want anything,” I said, at the same time as my traitorous mind thought of the juicy sweetness of the oranges and some good new tack for training the mare. “You should use it for yourself, or the baby. Or hey!” I exclaimed, suddenly inspired. “I know what you can use it for! Buy some lumber and supplies and I’ll build you a bedroom.”

“A…what?” Rosalie looked startled. “A _bedroom?_ ”

“Yeah,” I grinned at her. “You don’t want to share with Hannah and Maggie forever, and have Stephen and Will come crowding in once winter comes too, do you? Especially not with a baby.”

“Well, no,” Rosalie acknowledged. “But can you do that?”

“It’ll be easy,” I said confidently. “Pa and I talked about doing it before I left for Rochester, but we didn’t have the funds. We’ll just add on to the end of the house. Pa knows what to do…he built most of the rest of the house.”

“But you can’t build anything!” Rosalie exclaimed. “Emmett, you haven’t even got off the floor since you were hurt!”

“I’m getting up today,” I protested, adding a little grudgingly, “Of course, I don’t mean I could do it right _now._ You’ll have to give me a week or two first. And I can get Albie and maybe Jeb to help as well. But you can’t tell me you wouldn’t love the privacy.”

Rosalie smiled at me. “Yes, I would. And probably everyone else would like some privacy from a noisy, crying baby once it gets here too!”

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “All the girls are mad about the idea of a baby, and even though Ma doesn’t say anything I know she’s going to love it too. You’ll probably have to fight them off to even hold it yourself.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” Rosalie said apprehensively. “I’m terrified of being solely responsible for an infant. But if you can do it, a private place for the baby and I would be absolutely wonderful.”

I nodded, but at the same time I couldn’t help thinking that a private place for Rosalie and I might be pretty wonderful too. Not that I knew what was going to happen between us, and not that I was planning anything, but just in case!

Things between us had changed during the days when my life had hung in the balance. Rosalie had confronted her feelings and been honest with herself and me that she loved me. I felt as though I had always loved her. But even though the love was real, that didn’t make it simple. Rosalie was married to someone else and noticeably pregnant with his baby. What this meant for our future together could only be guessed at.

 Rosalie read to me until I slept, which I did by mid-morning. As well as the never-ending pain of my chest, I was constantly exhausted and could barely stay awake for longer than an hour or two at a time. Ma said it was probably the amount of blood I’d lost and went and bought a tonic that smelled like bear shit and tasted worse. I was sorry I’d said anything.

When I woke in the early afternoon, Pa and Ma helped me up to my feet. I swore like a blue streak at the pain of it but, seeing the genuine tears in my eyes, for once Ma forgave me my dirty mouth and said nothing. Once I was steady on my feet, Rosalie moved closer and took my hand.

My ribs were constricting my breathing. A couple of them must be broken, I thought, remembering the feeling from a fight I’d come off worse in a year ago. I did my best to breathe steadily and shallowly, fighting the waves of dizziness that were washing over me. For a moment I shut my eyes, letting the sharp spears of pain fade away before I tried to walk. It was the first time I’d been on my feet in days, and I felt as weak and wobbly as a newborn calf.

“Emmett? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good…give me a minute.”

When I opened my eyes Ma, Pa and Rosalie were all looking at me anxiously. I could see the others crowded in the doorway behind them, and I had to laugh at the spectacle I was making just by standing up, even though it ended in a sobbing groan I couldn’t hold in.

“Oh, stop being a baby,” Rosalie said bossily.

“Stop being a baby?! Let’s get a bear to maul YOU and see how you feel then!” I said in indignation.

Rosalie laughed a little. “I’m not so silly as to let a bear get me,” she retorted, but her hands were gentle and her arm steady and strong as she led me out to the porch. “Let’s get you outside.”

They had arranged pillows on one of the rockers so that when I gingerly lowered myself in to it I was half reclined, which took some of the pressure off my chest. 

“Are you okay?” Rosalie leaned closer.

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, and then dimpled at Rosalie. “You could give me some kisses though…that would make me better.”

Rosalie snorted. “Don’t get too carried away. Your parents are three feet behind you.”

I grinned at her and then tipped my head back, enjoying the feel of the sun on my bare skin. The claw marks the bear had left in me stretched from my shoulder all the way down to my abdomen, and it made me shudder to look at them and realise how close I had come to not making it. Ma was right when she said I was lucky, that the angel on my shoulder must have been looking out for me. I stretched out a hand and felt my angel girl on earth taking hold.

“You look horrible.”

I opened my eyes to see Elizabeth staring in fascination at my injuries, which Ma had suggested I leave bare to the sun and air for a little while.

“Thanks, trouble,” I said amiably.

“You’re much more trouble than me,” she said seriously, walking closer and patting Rosalie’s belly. “Hello baby. You can feel the baby moving,” she told me importantly.

“I know,” I said with a grin, remembering the weirdly alien feeling of the little creature wriggling around under Rosalie’s skin.

Elizabeth looked with interest at my hand wrapped around Rosalie’s. “Are you going to be the baby’s daddy?”

“I think so,” I said. I glanced at Rosalie, my heart thudding fast. This wasn’t anything we’d talked about, but loving Rosalie and wanting to be with her included her baby and I wanted her to know that I was more than okay with that.

Rosalie’s face gave nothing away, but she said lightly, “Do you think he would be a good choice?”

Elizabeth considered. “Maybe,” she said cautiously. “But he doesn’t really know anything about babies.”

“That’s okay,” Rosalie said. “I don’t really know anything about babies either. We can learn together.” And she squeezed my hand and my future shimmered and turned in a whole new direction.

“I know a lot about babies,” Elizabeth said confidently. “Sometimes I help look after the babies in the nursery at church.”

“Oh, well in that case you can teach us all about it,” Rosalie said gravely.

“I will! And Mama said I can make something for the baby,” she said excitedly. “Some knitting, or maybe sewing a toy.”

Elizabeth continued to prattle about her plans for making something for the baby but a car, bumping its slow, careful way down the road, caught my attention instead. It looked modern and sleek and shiny, completely out of place on our dusty old road, and my stomach tightened with apprehension.

Rosalie was on her feet, her face white and her eyes wide with fear. I reached towards her, cursing the mess my chest was in as I was brought up short by pain.

“Rosa,” I said, “It’s okay. Whoever it is, they can’t do anything.”

I could see the single figure in the car, but I couldn’t identify him. Surely Royce King wouldn’t have come all this way? I hoped not. Pa was at work and I couldn’t even stand up by myself, so for all my promises of taking care of Rosalie I didn’t really know what I could do.

“Elizabeth,” I said quietly. “Can you go tell Ma to come out here, and bring the shotgun?”

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide and Rosalie choked out a laugh. “You’re not going to need to _shoot_ anyone!”

“I don’t expect I will,” I said with a faint grin. “But it doesn’t hurt if they think I _might_.”

“It’s not…” Rosalie swallowed hard as the car nosed into the yard. “It’s not Royce. It’s Pierce Kennedy. He’s a friend of Royce’s, and a lawyer.”

“What would he want? What would he do?”

Rosalie rose to her feet and dusted off her skirt, standing tall with her head held high and, despite the bare feet and man’s shirt, looking every inch a lady. “I guess we’re going to find out.”

 


	29. A Visitor

“Good day folks,” Pierce called with an attempt at friendliness, as he emerged from the vehicle.

I was having none of it. “What do you want?” I snapped.

“Now, now Rosalie, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Since when were we ever friends?” I said. “Just say what you’ve come to say and then go.”

All pretence at good humour vanished, and Pierce glared at me hatefully. Behind me, Miss Adeline emerged from the house, leaning the shotgun ostentatiously against the side of Emmett’s rocker. Pierce looked horrified, and I saw him swallow hard.

 _He’s scared_. _Good._

“I’ve come from Royce,” he said to me. “He’s been beside himself over your disappearance Rosalie…he was desperate to find out if you were safe and well. He’s had private investigators looking for you for weeks.”

I fought to keep my face expressionless.

“After they told him you were here, he sent me right away to come and fetch you…he’s prepared to take you back and wants you to come home,” Pierce went on.

“Prepared…to…take…me…back,” I repeated slowly, unable to keep quiet. “HE is prepared to take ME back…as if I would go back after what he did to me!”

“Now look Rosalie, don’t be silly about all this,” Pierce said impatiently. “So you had a bit of a tiff with Royce. That’s no reason to embarrass the whole family by running off! Get in the car and I’ll take you back, and Royce has said he’s prepared to forget this and go on as before.”

“I don’t want to go on as before!” I snarled. “I don’t want to go on with Royce at all…I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted trip Pierce, but I’m staying right where I am and you can tell him that I’m never coming near him again.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem,” Pierce said calmly. “Because you still have something that belongs to Royce, and even if you refuse to come back, he still wants it.”

“What?” For a moment I was baffled, and then I realised and felt my whole body go taut as I curved both hands protectively over her belly. “No,” I said, my voice like ice. “The baby is mine.”

_Mine. And I will kill you before I let you take it away from me and treat it the way you treated me. My baby will have better than that!_

“Well, Royce doesn’t agree with that,” Pierce said with a malicious smirk. “He’s not having his son brought up by some inbred hillbilly hicks out in the middle of nowhere. The child is a King Rosalie, and it’s going to be brought up as one.”

Emmett couldn’t have moved fast enough to stop me, but I don’t know if he would have anyway as I snatched up the shotgun and pointed it straight at Pierce Kennedy’s heart.

“Get. Out,” I muttered through gritted teeth, my eyes glittering with a fury beyond anything I’d ever felt before. “Get out of here, and you tell Royce he can go to hell if he thinks he’s going to take my baby.”

Pierce tried to look unconcerned, but he was moving pretty quickly back to the car. “I’ll tell him Rosalie, but don’t expect that this is the last of it. Royce is entitled to his child, and he’s going to come for it. So be ready.”

As the car disappeared down the end of the road, the white-hot rage left me, and I found myself shivering in abject terror. Miss Adeline came over hastily and took the heavy shotgun out of my hands, propping it up against the house.

“Let’s just get this out of your hands,” she said soothingly, and then put her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “Come on Rosalie, keep it together.”

I couldn’t stop shaking. “He wants the baby…he can’t do that! He can’t have my baby…can he?”

“Well, he can’t have it now,” Miss Adeline said stoutly, patting my belly. “It’s safe inside for the moment. But afterward, legally…I don’t know Rosalie.” Her face was troubled.

 I turned to Emmett, sinking down to the porch beside the rocker and pressing my face against his thigh. His big hand cupped the back of my head and stroked my hair- the closest he could come to hugging me with his chest so painfully mutilated.

“We’ll work it out,” he said, striving to sound confident. “He can’t come and take the baby.”

“He doesn’t even want it,” I said flatly. “Not like I want it. He wants it like it’s a trophy, something he can possess and show off, that’s all. He wants it because I tried to take it away.”

As if it could hear us talking about it, the baby rolled and kicked in my belly, and I put a hand down to feel it on the outside as well. The feeling gave me strength at the same time as it calmed me, and I took a deep breath and smiled. “There’s no point in worrying too much now. He can’t do anything until the baby is born, and who knows if he’ll still want to by then.”

“That’s a good girl,” Miss Adeline said. “Perhaps we can have a talk with the minister at church and see if he has any suggestions for us too.”

I doubted the minister would have any particular help for us, but I was willing to ask everybody in town for advice if it meant I would find out how to stop Royce from taking my baby.

“I do have to ask though,” Miss Adeline went on, “Do you actually know how to shoot that gun?”

“Oh.” I looked at her a little sheepishly. “Well…no.”

She chuckled. “It was a good bluff then…anyone would have sworn you were a sharpshooter the way you held that. If you’re going to go about waving guns at people though Rosalie, you had better learn how to use them first.”

“Do _you_ know how to shoot?” I asked in surprise.

“Of course I do. It’s never going to hurt a girl to know her way around a gun, just in case she should ever need it,” Miss Adeline said. “When he’s better, get Emmett to teach you. But for now, I’m going back in to make the dinner.”

Hannah went with her mother, and Maggie and Elizabeth settled down in the shade of the porch to play jacks. Will and Stephen, after bragging to me about their prowess with the shotgun and offering to show me how to use it, headed off towards the river. I stayed sitting on the porch, leaning against Emmett’s leg, his hand in my hair.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you out today,” Emmett said eventually, sounding frustrated. “I know you didn’t really need me, but it was killing me to know that I couldn’t have even stood up out of this chair, let alone defended you.”

I rose and sat on the rocker beside Emmett, so that I could look at him. “It’s really fine. I think I got the point across.”

A faint smile drifted across Emmett’s face. “I’d say you did.” He hesitated. “At least now we know that he knows where you are. You don’t have to worry about hiding so much anymore…you could get in contact with your folks, or your friend Vera.”

“My parents will try and make me go back,” I said flatly. “I’m sure I’ve embarrassed them socially, and the only thing I can do to make it up to them all is go back to Royce, play nice and pretend that none of this ever happened. If they knew where I was…my mother would cry to see me in these clothes, and they would both be horrified at what I’m doing without.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to them,” Emmett muttered. “If you’re _doing without_ so much.”

It took me a moment to realise that I’d offended him, and I struggled to explain, “No Emmett, you know I don’t care…I would rather be here.”

“You don’t always sound so sure of that,” Emmett responded quietly.

“That’s because sometimes it’s hard!” I heard my voice start to rise, and I took a deep breath. “Remember back in Rochester when you said that you were living in my world and it was hard? Well, now _I’m_ living in _your_ world, and sometimes I find it hard too! I didn’t have to worry about bears and selling jewellery to pay for the doctor back in Rochester, you know!”

“No, you just had to worry about a husband that brought other girls home when you weren’t around and then beat the shit out of you,” Emmett snapped.

I didn’t wait to hear more. I didn’t wait to _say_ more. Ignoring Emmett’s call after me I jumped off the porch and stormed away, anger hot in my chest. Anger both at Emmett, for reminding me of things I would rather forget, but anger also at myself for making such a mess of things once again.

“ _So stupid_!” I raged at myself. “ _Why do you make everyone turn on you? Why do you ruin every single relationship you care about?_ ”

I was around the back of the house, realising with a kind of despair that I had nowhere to go. There was no privacy in the house. There were acres of woods and fields surrounding us, but I didn’t know my way around them and the idea of getting lost or running into Emmett’s bear was too intimidating for me to risk it.

Morosely I picked my way through the yard, skirting the chickens and wishing I had shoes on. Unlike the children, whose soles seemed to be made of leather, my feet were soft and the ground was prickly and uncomfortable. I wandered over to the barn, and then entered the lean-to beside it where the car, an old Model-T, was parked.

The engine was exposed, a wooden crate with some tools and pieces of the engine as well as an oil-stained manual left beside it. Curious, I picked up the manual and flipped through the pages, glancing from the pen-and-ink diagrams to the physical engine in front of me. Almost immediately I saw a deviation in the engine compared to the diagram, where someone had installed a part upside down. Cautiously I set about correcting it. Pleased with the neatness and precision of the result, I turned to the next section in the manual and began to follow the directions. Absorbed in cleaning and adjusting the engine according to the manual, I didn’t hear anyone approaching until Emmett cleared his throat.

“Rose…what are you doing?”

“Hmm?” I said absently, tightening a bolt. “Oh…fixing this. I found the likely reason why it wouldn’t run, and I think I’ve repaired it. But there’s a few other things that aren’t quite right and…”

“Since when do you know about cars?” Emmett sounded flabbergasted.

I looked up him, suddenly feeling guilty when I saw him leaning on a stick and sweating, realising that he’d dragged his injured body across the yard to find me.

“Shouldn’t you sit down? You don’t look great.”

Emmett shook his head. “Standing up is better. Like I said…since when do you know about cars?”

I laughed. “I don’t. But the manual explains what to do…it’s okay that I worked on it, isn’t it?”

“More than okay, if you can get it running,” Emmett answered. “Pa and I can’t make heads or tails of that damn manual, so if it makes sense to you then go with it.”

I nodded, and then looked down at my bare, dirty feet. “I’m sorry about what I said before,” I said quietly. “You know I am so grateful to be here, and I don’t care what my mother would say about anything. I haven’t given up anything that I wasn’t willing to let go.”

Emmett’s face looked sad. “I know it’s not perfect here…I know how far it is from what you had before. And sometimes I think it _is_ too much for you to give up. That one day you’re going to turn around and hate me because I brought you here and made you give it all up.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“But at least think about it,” Emmett persisted wretchedly. “I don’t mean you should go back to Royce King. But your parents could help you, there could be something…you could go back to being who you were before.”

“Do you want me to go?” I felt sick. “Because if you don’t want me here I won’t stay.”

Emmett’s face was white and strained. “No! I want…god, Rosa girl, I want you. I love you, and I’d give you the world if I had it! But that’s just the thing…I don’t have it. I don’t have anything to give you at all…”

I perched on the edge of the wooden crate and looked over at him. “Can’t give me anything? Emmett, you’ve already given it…you’ve given me safety. You’ve given me a place to have my baby, you’ve given me a family, and you’ve given me you.” Feeling my face heat up, I looked down at my hands. “All of that is more than enough.”

“Come here,” Emmett said hoarsely, holding out the arm that wasn’t leaning on the stick. I went to him, and he grasped my hand, squeezing it tight and then leaning down to kiss me. “I wish I could hug you!” he said with a half laugh, letting go and looking at me ruefully. “Damn and blast that bear!”

“I’m not sure you could hug me anyway,” I said with a giggle. “It feels like I just get bigger every single day.”

“You kind of do,” Emmett admitted. “He’s going to be a big boy.”

“It might not be a boy,” I said with a laugh. I couldn’t stop the thought that it might be easier if it weren’t a boy, that if the baby was a girl Royce would be much less interested in it. “Your mother told me all these old wives tales and she thinks it’s going to be a girl.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” Emmett said with a grin. “It’s going to look like you and it’s going to be beautiful, whether it’s a boy or a girl.” He sighed heavily. “And now, if it’s all the same to you, I need to go back to the house and lie down…and possibly die because these claw marks still hurt like a bitch.”


	30. A Gift

My ribs and chest began to heal over the next several weeks. Fast, according to Ma and the doctor, but the pain-filled, itchy, irritating weeks felt like forever to me. I hated not being able to move without pain, I hated that the summer days were passing by and I wasn’t able to work, I hated feeling so helpless and dependent. I wanted to be outside, I wanted to be training the mare and hunting and playing with the little ones and getting started on building Rosalie’s new bedroom, and I couldn’t do any of it. If it hadn’t been for Rosalie, I don’t know how I would have got through the days.

But I did have Rosalie, and she was like sunshine on the darkest days. She could be bossy and intolerant of my bouts of self-pity, but she was always willing to talk and tease and joke me out of them. She was endlessly patient with the physical realities of caring for my injuries, taking over from Ma as the person who bathed and dressed my wounds and then, when they had healed a little, rubbing on a cream that Ma had got from one of her friends that was supposed to help minimise the scars and make the new skin supple. It was Rosalie who first encouraged me to move and stretch several times a day in order to try and keep the developing scars from constricting movement. She played chess with me, she read to me, she let me teach her to play rummy and poker, and her angel face and beautiful smile were the things I looked to most often.

We didn’t hear from Royce King or any of his people again. I knew it wasn’t over, but I guessed he wasn’t going to bother doing anything until the baby was born and he had something tangible to fight for. Rosalie was tense and edgy for a few days after Pierce Kennedy had made his appearance, but she seemed to settle down and relax after that. She never spoke of Royce or Rochester, and any suggestion I made that she try and contact her parents or a friend were met with a silent shake of her head.

Aside from taking care of me, Rosalie did what she could to help around the house, although as she got bigger and clumsier with the pregnancy Ma and Hannah asked her for less and less. She completely overhauled the engine of the car and had it running better than it had ever run before, and Pa was so impressed with her that one day he took her over to the Allison’s and had her do the same thing to the tractor there. She sewed and knitted for the baby, tiny little nightgowns and cardigans no bigger than my hand, all ironed and folded ready in a wicker basket she kept under the bed. Sometimes she took the basket out and would just stare at the clothes, touching them as though she couldn’t believe that one day soon there would be a little person to put in them.

As soon as I was healed enough to walk around in relative comfort I swung into action on building Rosalie a bedroom. Pa approved and helped me work out what I needed to do, and Albie was more than willing to provide the bulk of the muscle to get it built. Anything if it meant getting to show off to Hannah! Rosalie offered to pay him to help, but he refused to take a cent for helping out a friend. Jeb came and helped out a couple of times too, and the new room went up fast.

“I’ve got something to show you!” I teased Rosalie over lunch one day.

She rolled her eyes. “You keep saying that, but you never show me!” She held out her bowl and took a second helping of apple crumble, adding all the remaining cream with a slightly guilty look.

I scooped a stolen spoonful of cream from her bowl. “Well Rosa-girl, the wait is over…today’s the day.”

“You mean it’s finished?” Rosalie’s eyes lit up. “My bedroom is finished?”

I grinned at her. “Yes. So as soon as you finish lunch, I’m going to take you and show you.”

Rosalie gobbled down the rest of her crumble, and then I took her hand and led her over to the door that had replaced the wall at the end of the hallway, a door that had remained closed to her since I started working on the inside. Most of the others had seen it already, but that didn’t stop them from crowding in behind us.

“Close your eyes,” I instructed, standing behind her with an arm around her and my hand over her eyes for good measure. I pushed the door open and then withdrew my hand with a flourish. “There you go!”

The room was plain, with whitewashed walls and raw timber floorboards. But I’d built a bed out of wood polished to a dark sheen that was covered with one of my grandma’s patchwork quilts, and Ma had sewn some curtains to cover the small window. There was a table that held a lamp, the wicker basket of baby clothes and Rosalie’s sapphires, and beside the bed there was a cradle that I’d made and painted white, which had a tiny mattress in it and a folded knitted blanket from Hannah.

Rosalie looked around, her hands over her mouth. “Oh Emmett,” she whispered. “You did all this…for me?” She looked at me, her eyes wide. “Just for me?”

“It’s all yours,” I said tenderly.

“I can sleep in here with you if you get lonely!” Elizabeth announced, bouncing over and climbing up on to the bed.

Stephen went after her. “This is more comfortable than my bed,” he remarked, lying back on the pillow.

“Well, it’s all for Rosalie,” I said. “And the baby, when it comes.”

“It’s perfect,” Rosalie said quietly.

“And I finally get my bed back,” Hannah said with a giggle, poking Rosalie in the back.

I left them all poking about in the room and testing the comfort of the bed. I’d been polishing furniture all morning and felt sweaty and grimy, so I headed off down the river for a swim.

Stripping off my clothes, I couldn’t stop my grimace at the sight of the livid red scars that furrowed my chest. I was surprised at how much they bothered me. I would never have said I was a vain person, but the idea of being with Rosalie and having her see and touch the scars in a more personal way depressed me.

I went into the river and dove under the water, surfacing in the deep part in the middle. I floated lazily on my back for a while, and then sank under the water for as long as I could hold my breath. When I resurfaced, Rosalie was sitting on the broad, flat rock at the water’s edge, dipping her toes in.

“Hey you,” I said with a grin. “What are you doing?”

“Just walking,” Rosalie said with a sigh. “It was so hot in the house.”

“You should come in for a swim!” I said. “It’ll cool you right down.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” Rosalie said, with a longing look at the water. “Not that it would fit even if I _did_ ,” she added with a scowl.

“You don’t need one, just come on in,” I urged. “We always swam in the raw, even my sisters. Leave your underwear on if you want. It’s just me…no one else will see.”

I could tell she wanted to and her hand went to her buttons, but then she looked at me and hesitated. “I…don’t…”

“I won’t touch you,” I promised. “Honest, I’ll stay on the other side of the river if you want.”

“No, it’s just…I don’t want you to look at me,” she said reluctantly, hanging her head and laying a hand across the bulge of her shirt. “It’s this…I’m so big…and…it’s not _pretty_ …” She blushed fiercely.

“Hey Rosa, it doesn’t matter,” I said gently. I swam towards her, keeping low in the water. “You’re growing a baby, and of course it’s going to change things. You know I think you’re beautiful. Come swimming with me- the water will feel good and it’s not like I’ll see anything once you’re in anyway.”

Rosalie hesitated for another minute and then rose awkwardly to her feet, untying her skirt and letting it drop before she began undoing the buttons on her shirt. Her cheeks were still stained red with embarrassment when she pushed it back over her shoulders and shrugged out of it.

I knew she was self-conscious enough and I shouldn’t stare, but I couldn’t help looking as she picked her way carefully through the rocks and stones near the bank. Her belly was bigger than it had looked under the over-large shirt, pale skin stretched tight and the tracery of blue veins visible under the white skin. There were red marks on her hips, disappearing under the waistband of her knickers, as though someone had grabbed her skin and squeezed. Her breasts were bigger too, spilling out of her bra, and I could see where the elastic was cutting into her skin.

“Does it hurt?” I asked uncertainly. Sure, my mother had been pregnant half my life, but I’d never seen it all so close up before and all that stretched skin and great bulge of stomach looked almost painful.

Rosalie shivered for a moment as she reached me, the water lapping up against her bellybutton. “Not really,” she shrugged. “Sometimes my back hurts, or my hips, and sometimes it kicks too hard in the wrong place and that hurts. But mostly it’s just uncomfortable.”

As though reacting to the cold of the water, I saw her belly suddenly distort, the skin rippling as the baby moved within. “Hey!” I said in surprise. “I saw it move!”

She smiled wryly. “It does that.” Stepping out deeper the water rose up over her belly and she sighed. “This feels so good…to be cool, and have the water take the weight away! I hate being fat.”

“You’re not fat.” The water lapping over her breasts had made her white bra transparent, and I ducked my face under the water for a moment so she wouldn’t see me blush.

I broke the surface out in the deeper part of the river and stretched my arms out to her. “Come out here.”

“I can’t swim,” she admitted. “I didn’t grow up playing in a river like you.”

“I could help you,” I offered, slightly hesitantly. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but the idea of touching her near-naked body was something I wanted maybe a bit _too_ much!

“You won’t let go?”

“Promise. You’ll float on your own, you just need to relax and let it happen. But I’ll hold onto you.”

Rosalie took my hands and gingerly stepped out into the deeper water, stopping when it was up to her neck. “Emmett…”

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” I told her. “Just lean forward and keep your hands on me and let yourself float. It’s easy.”

She giggled for a moment, and I felt her hands brush my chest as she moved them up and settled them on my shoulders. I stepped backwards, bringing her gently with me until her feet could no longer touch the ground.

“No, Emmett wait!” Panicking suddenly she wrapped her arms around my neck and for a second the whole world stopped as I felt her pressed against me. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her.

We stared at each other, nearer than we’d ever been, both of us suddenly aware of how close we were and how much of each other’s bodies we were touching. We’d touched before, gentle touches of hands and face, a hand on her back to guide her, she’d dressed my wounds…but none of that had approached anywhere near the intimacy of this touching, of wet, slippery flesh wound together under the water. I felt Rosalie’s breath quicken as one of her legs hooked around mine and she realised that I was naked, but before anything could happen the moment was broken when we both felt the baby kick in between us.

“Wow! That was…I really felt it!”

Rosalie laughed shakily, but she seemed oddly near tears.

“It’s okay,” I said gently, loosening my grip on her. “I’ve got you, and I promise I’m not going to let go.” I turned her around, keeping an arm across her ribs to help her feel secure. “Just lie back, that’s all. I’ve got you.”

To my surprise she did, and as I shifted slightly so that I was standing at her side instead of behind her she let her head drop back until she was looking up at the sky, floating like some strange whale with the bulk of her belly up, resting lightly on the hands I held under her back. As I looked at her she closed her eyes, and at the time as I felt the tension leave her body she sighed.

“Good?” I asked her softly.

“Very good,” she mumbled.

I tried not to look at the rest of her body. She’d left her underwear on in effort to preserve her modesty, but she may as well have been naked. Thin, almost transparent cotton showed everything, and I couldn’t help but think how lovely she was.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I didn’t mean to make her cry, but what I said did. She didn’t move, but tears slid down from her closed eyelashes as she whispered, “I’m not. I’m just so big and awkward and my hair is such a mess…he ruined everything.”

Rosalie’s voice dropped so low on the last words that I didn’t think I was even meant to hear them. But I did, and then I knew that it wasn’t what she saw in the mirror that was the problem, but rather the memory of what he had done to her and the way that ugly memory coloured everything she saw.

I dared to curve my arm around her shoulders to bring her closer to me, and gently rubbed my hand across her belly. “You’re beautiful,” I said tenderly. “Look at you…it’s a _baby_ in there, a whole new life…you’re making something wonderful, pretty girl. And I love the way you look here, home with me. I love watching you walk with bare feet and wearing my clothes, and the way the sun has put just a tiny little dusting of freckles on your nose. I love seeing your hair all long and pretty and so soft all I want to do is put my hands in it…”

I let my hand slide up her arm from her belly and into her wet hair so I could curve it around her head and then, since we were so close, I dropped my face just a tiny bit more and kissed her.

For a moment she seemed to freeze and I felt my heart drop. But then her hands crept up so that she was holding me and kissing me back, kissing me like I’d dreamed of her kissing me and suddenly neither of us cared about being naked or the way the baby sometimes kicked in between us. I didn’t care about anything but the feel and touch and taste of her, my beautiful angel girl.

I don’t know what would have happened between us if we hadn’t heard the shouts of the little ones as they approached the river. Rosalie and I had only just had time to separate before they rounded the bend and came racing in, shedding clothes along the way. None of them seemed surprised to see Rosalie and I already swimming; it was a hot day and we’d always spent half our summer in the river. Stephen scampered up the tree like a monkey, swinging out on the rope and dropping into the river beside me with a splash that washed over me like a wave, Will clambering up to take his turn next. Elizabeth, who’d practically been born swimming, showed off to Rosalie as she sat in the shallows, water up to her chest.

I played with the boys for a while, and then made my way over to Rosalie, sitting beside her, leaning back on my hands. She gave me a sideways look, her cheeks pink, but I couldn’t tell if it were the sun or embarrassment.

“Okay?” I asked uncertainly, hoping she wasn’t regretting anything.

“Yes,” she answered softly. “Very okay.” And under the water her hand found mine and squeezed, and I knew that something had changed between us again. Something good.


	31. The Big Event

I sat on a wooden crate, contemplating the engine of the car without any real enthusiasm. In truth there was nothing else I could do with it, but at least sitting out here in the lean-to people left me alone.

“Rosalie, lunchtime!” It was Emmett, striding across the yard to me.

I shrugged. “I’m not hungry,”

He frowned at me and said, “You have to eat…”

“I _said_ I’m not hungry!” I shouted at him, enraged. “Stop telling me what to do all the time!”

Startled, Emmett stopped dead and held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay…no lunch.” Shaking his head he turned and headed back to the house.

Almost immediately I felt sorry for shouting at him, but I was too exhausted to go after him and try to explain. It was one of the hottest days of summer and my back was aching unmercifully, along with the usual cramps and stretching pains low down in my belly. Mrs Miller had said the baby could come any day…any day was none too soon for me.

“Is it safe to approach?” A little later Emmett came over, giving me his familiar, dimpled smile.

I shifted against the pain in my belly and gave him a weary smile. “Yes. I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

“That’s okay.” Emmett looked at me with concern. “If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“Thank you.”

“I was going to take the mare over to the Allison’s,” Emmett went on. “But if you’d rather I stayed here, I can.” His eyes on me were worried as I shifted uncomfortably and pressed my hands against my cramping belly.

“No, go,” I said, a little impatiently. I was tired of them all watching me like I was about to explode at any moment.

“Would you like to walk as far as the river with me?” Emmett asked. “Elizabeth wants to wade…I thought if you came with us you could walk back with her while I went on to the Allison’s.”

Unenthusiastically I agreed to go for a walk. I didn’t really want to, but it might be cooler down by the river. So I waited while Emmett got the mare and lifted Elizabeth up to sit on top, and then the four of us ambled down to the river. As the pain tightened across my belly I wished I hadn’t come, but moving seemed to ease the pain in my back a little.

“Can I swim?” Elizabeth asked me hopefully, once Emmett had left us.

“Yes, sure…oof,” I said, managing to lower myself down until I was sitting on the flat rock near the edge, with my legs dangling in the water. I wondered briefly how I was supposed to get back up.

Elizabeth dropped her dress next to me and splashed happily in the water. I watched her, feeling ridiculous for being jealous of a five year old but wishing I could swim like she did and had her confidence in the water.

With the aches and pains that had been plaguing me for the past several days I had been unsure how I would know when real labour began. But there could be no doubt about the pain that gripped me like a vise as I sat by the river watching Elizabeth.

My first reaction was, quite simply, astonishment. It was _really_ going to happen? I was _really_ going to have a baby? After all this time it had begun to seem as though I was destined to be pregnant forever, but as a second contraction squeezed its claws into me I realised that the end was rapidly approaching and there was nothing I could do about it.

Mrs Miller and Miss Adeline had both impressed upon me that labours, especially first labours, take a long time and I had no need to panic at the first pain. There would be plenty of time. So I stayed by the river, watching Elizabeth while she swam and soaking my feet, hunching over my belly with a tiny grunt whenever another contraction came.

 “Do you have a bellyache?” Elizabeth stood in front of me, naked and dripping water. “You made a sad noise. Is it the baby?”

I laughed a little raggedly. “I think so. We might have to go home.”

Elizabeth willingly dragged her dress on without waiting for her skin to dry at all. “Can I be the first to hold the baby? And if it’s a girl can we call her Daisy? Can we…”

I couldn’t focus on her talk. Standing up and walking was bringing the pains on stronger, and I had to stumble through three of them before we reached the house.

“Mama!” Elizabeth shrieked. “Rosalie’s got a bellyache and she says it’s the baby coming!”

I groaned, half in pain and half in despair as Elizabeth’s words brought everyone in the house flowing out to see me as I leaned against the porch rail.

“All right, all right,” Miss Adeline said, quieting the children and coming down the steps to me. “So you think you might like to have a baby today then, Rosalie?” she said to me with a pleased smile.

“Like to?” The thought of exactly _how_ this baby was going to be born still sounded horrifying. “No. But then…I’m not sure I have any choice.” And I gripped the porch rail and held my breath against another pain.

“Make sure you breathe,” Miss Adeline reminded me. “I’d say you’re well in labour, we’ll give it a little while and see how you get on before we call for Mrs Miller.” She turned and looked at the children, who were all staring at me, agog. “You can all go back to what you were doing and leave Rosalie alone for a little while. Hannah, can you help me make up the bed for Rosalie?”

Miss Adeline wanted me to lie down and rest, in case labour was going to be long, but I couldn’t do it. Lying down made everything hurt more, so instead I paced restlessly along the porch for the next two hours, feeling the contractions strengthen as my body worked towards delivering a baby.

I barely noticed when Miss Adeline sent the children away. I vaguely heard her tell them to go to the Allison’s farm and tell Daddy it was Rosalie’s time, and to stay there until they heard something. Hannah was sent to get the midwife before she was to join them. They all called goodbye and wished me well, but by that point I was gripping the porch rail in both hands and biting my lip bloody in an effort not to scream out and frighten them and couldn’t respond.

“Rosalie,” Miss Adeline touched my shoulder. “You and I are the only ones here now, so you can make all the noise you like. Come inside and we’ll get you ready for the midwife.”

I followed her inside where, in between contractions that seemed stronger than ever, she helped strip off my clothes before she buttoned me into the old plaid shirt of Emmett’s I’d been wearing.

 _Emmett_. I wished he were there beside me, ready to hold my hand and reassure me with his steady blue eyes and tender smile that it was going to be okay. I wanted him there, to remind me that I was strong and capable so that maybe I’d believe in myself enough to do this.

It was Mrs Miller who came next though. The elderly midwife came into the bedroom where I’d crawled up on the bed and was hunched inelegantly on my elbows and knees, moaning and fisting my hands in my hair as I endured another contraction.

“This is looking promising,” Mrs Miller said cheerfully. “How far apart are these pains now?”

“Just a couple of minutes,” Miss Adeline responded. “It’s all moving fast, but Rosalie’s doing well.”

“I’m not doing well,” I moaned. “I’m not…this is _horrible_ and I…” I finished with a scream that I couldn’t hold back as another pain seemed to tear through me.

“There now, try not to scream,” Mrs Miller counselled. “Screaming takes energy and we want to save that for when you really need it! You’re doing fine.”

I couldn’t always stop the screaming though. Sometimes the pain was too intense, too quickly coming on top of another one, too frightening as I felt my body completely taken over by this monster force that was tearing me open.

“Rosalie? Rosalie!”

I thought I was seeing things at first, when Emmett’s broad shoulders appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. But then he grinned at me and I saw his dimples as he came in and dropped down by the side of the bed, and I knew he was real. As another contraction sent its crashing wave of pain over me I crawled into his arms, thinking of nothing but the comfort he had always offered.

“Emmett McCarty, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” Mrs Miller asked tartly.

“Having a baby,” he answered cheerfully, kissing me quickly as the pain receded and rubbing a big hand across my back. “My girl here’s doing real good, isn’t she?”

“She’s doing very well,” Mrs Miller allowed. “She’s very close.”

The next contraction hit, and I leaned into Emmett and sobbed. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Sure you can,” he crooned. “Look, you already are…you’re doing great, and it won’t be so long now and it will be all over.”

“Stay with me,” I begged. “Please, please don’t go Emmett, I can’t do this by myself…” I didn’t care that I was half naked, that in the hot room my whole body was slick with sweat, my hair a mess, and that at some near point I was going to have a baby…all I wanted was Emmett’s strong, reassuring presence and his unshakeable belief in me.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me,” Emmett promised.

Mrs Miller sighed. “Well, if she wants you here…but if you’re going to stay Emmett, you get up that end of the bed and stay out of the way, and know that if you faint I’m not going to be picking you up! It’s always the big men that fall the hardest,” she added with a sniff.

Miss Adeline came in with cold cloths for my head and some of her lemonade, well sweetened with sugar for energy. I gulped the cool drink down easily and then nearly climbed the wall with the next few contractions.

“It _hurts_! I don’t _like_ it! Make it _stop_!” I was barely aware of what I was saying as I slithered across the bed and stood up unsteadily on the floor beside it. “I _quit_!”

“Rosa girl, you can’t quit,” Emmett said, slightly alarmed, holding out his arm in case I needed it to steady me.

Mrs Miller chuckled. “She’s close now. When they get like this, when they think they can’t go on any longer, that’s when you know…”

“You know _nothing! I’m never having this baby and I don’t want to anyway, and I…oooOOOOHHHH”_ I roared as the next contraction hit, stunned to feel a shift in pressure as the water broke and splashed heavily out of me onto the floor.

There was almost no break after that in the excruciating pain that flooded my body. I had only a confused, jumbled sense of being wiped down and helped back on the bed, where Emmett sat against the headboard and I sat half reclining against his chest with Miss Adeline and Mrs Miller both at my other end. I twisted helplessly against the pain, as Emmett cradled me close and whispered in my ear.

“There’s a little head right there Rosalie,” Mrs Miller told me briskly. “I can almost see it…just a few pushes and you’ll get to meet your baby.”

I shook my head, but my body took over where I didn’t want to go and pushed hard, despite the burning pain, and I flung back my head and swore. “Sweet fucking hell…if I have to do this than let’s get it the hell over with.” And this time I focussed all my energy on expelling the little interloper from my body.

“Oh, I can see it Rosalie…lots of dark hair!” Miss Adeline said encouragingly. “Just a few more pushes.”

“Please Rosa girl, do this for me,” Emmett breathed into my neck, his voice breaking. “I know it hurts baby, I know, but you’re doing so well. You’re so strong Rosa girl, just a little bit more…”

So I gripped his hand and bore down yet again, and finally the pain peaked and then disappeared as the baby was born, the round little head passing out of me followed by a tangle of limbs. Mrs Miller picked up the skinny, slimy purple thing and rubbed its back briskly until it wailed, and then she wrapped it in a muslin and placed it on my chest.

_Hello baby._

I stared at it. Its eyes were scrunched shut, its mouth open and wailing, it was purple and slimy and cheesy and… _it was unutterably, perfectly, beautiful._

_Baby mine._

“Boy or girl?” Miss Adeline asked.

I shook my head. I had been so enraptured by the tiny little creature in my arms that I had never even thought to look. My hands shook as I tried to unwrap the muslin the baby had been wrapped in, and eventually Emmett took over.

“It’s a boy,” he said hoarsely.

“Look,” I whispered. “Look at my baby…isn’t he beautiful?”

I examined him all over, from the thatch of dark hair on top of his head, his round little belly, his scrawny chicken legs, all the way down to his tiny little toes. Emmett, his arms still wrapped around me, touched him with one wary finger, and then kissed away my happy tears.

“He’s beautiful Rosa-girl…just like you.”

“Rosalie, it’s time to get the afterbirth out now,” Mrs Miller instructed, pulling a bloodstained towel out from in between my thighs and replacing it with a clean one. “We’ll get that baby on the breast and then a few more pushes should do it. Emmett…”

“He’s staying here,” I said bluntly.

“If that’s what you want.” Miss Adeline took the baby from me and placed him on the bed, and then unbuttoned the sweat soaked shirt I was wearing. “Let’s see if this little man wants some milk.”

The baby did want milk, opening his mouth and jerking his little head around in uncoordinated movements as Miss Adeline helped me hold him in the crook of my arm and my nipple touched his cheek. I felt a little awkward then, being essentially naked in front of three other people, but then the baby latched on with more strength than I’d been expecting and I forgot to care.

“Look at him,” I said reverently. “He’s only minutes old, and he already knows what to do!”

The baby nursing started up the contractions again, and with a grunt I pushed out the placenta. After that I simply sat contentedly in the circle of Emmett’s arms, his chest broad and safe at my back, while I looking down at the beautiful, everyday miracle of my newborn baby.

 


	32. A Baby and a Promise

The baby didn’t nurse for long, falling asleep and then peeing all over Rosalie. Ma and Mrs Miller made me get up and go then, while they cleaned off Rosalie and the baby and remade the bed.

I boiled the kettle and made some tea and toast on a tray, which I took in to Rosalie as soon as I was allowed to. I saw my Ma’s brief quirk of a smile, but I just shook my head at her. “It’s not every day your girl has a baby.”

“You’re a good man Emmett,” Ma said, placing her hands on either side of my face and bringing me down to kiss my forehead. “Now, you go in there and make Rosalie eat something.”

I felt almost shy went I went back into the bedroom. Silly really, after I’d had Rosalie almost naked, sweating and swearing in my arms as she gave birth less than an hour ago. But now she had her hair brushed and lying in a neat braid over her shoulder, and was wearing a demure nightgown as she sat up against the pillows, primly tucked into bed with the baby cradled in her arms.

“Hey,” I said bashfully. “How are you now?”

Rosalie didn’t seem to be sharing my shyness, as she looked up and gave me a beautiful, beaming smile. “Good. Relieved that it’s over! But…good.” She looked down at the baby and then back up at me, and this time she _was_ uncertain. “Would you like to hold him?”

“Sure. You eat and I’ll hold him.” I laid the tray across her lap and sat beside her, scooping up the feather-light little bundle and tucking him into the crook of my elbow. “Hey little fellow,” I said softly.

The baby looked nothing like Rosalie. In fact it was almost uncomfortable at first, looking at him and seeing his resemblance to Royce King, from the thick dark hair down to the little cleft in his baby chin.

“What do you think?” Rosalie asked, and I could tell from the slight tremble in her voice that my answer was important to her. That she had seen the way this baby looked like his _real_ father, she knew that I would have seen, and she wanted to know how I was going to respond to that.

“What do I think?” I brushed a hand across the baby’s hair and kissed his downy little forehead. “I think my baby is as beautiful as his mama, and I’m so proud of both of you.”

Rosalie’s relief was visible, and for a moment she leaned against my arm and kissed the baby’s dark hair. “He _is_ beautiful,” she said, adding fiercely, “And he _is_ yours.”

“I know.” The baby was dressed and wrapped up in one of the knitted baby blankets, one of his little hands held up against his cheek and the other hidden in the wrapping. “He’s my little man.”

“Not so little,” Rosalie said through a mouthful. “Mrs Miller says he was nine pounds…that’s pretty big.” She swallowed some more toast. “Can I have some more? Is there any pie? I’m starving.”

I laughed in amusement and put the baby in his cradle so I could take the tray back to the kitchen for more food.

“She’s hungry?” Ma said. “That’s good. Do some more toast and tell her I’ll make her an apple pie for dinner. She certainly didn’t waste any time having that baby, that’s for sure. I’ve still got time to make dinner.”

“I felt like it was forever, sitting over at the Allison’s and waiting for word,” I admitted sheepishly. “That’s why I came back…I had to be with her.”

“Well, no one would describe you and Rosalie as being orthodox in any way,” Ma said with a sigh. “And you did well for your first time at a birth!”

I laughed. “And isn’t he perfect? How do you like becoming a granny again?”

“Oh, Emmett…” Ma frowned helplessly. “He’s not…”

“He’s mine,” I said flatly. “He’s my baby, and everyone needs to get used to that idea. I’m going to marry Rosalie and she and the baby will have my name and that’s all that’s going to matter.”

“I wasn’t aware you were engaged,” Ma said lightly.

“Well, I haven’t exactly asked her yet,” I said, a little foolishly. “But I’m _going_ to! And Ma, I mean it…he’s my son. People will say what they’ll say and I can’t stop them, but I’m going to raise him like he’s my own. And that makes him your grandbaby too.”

“And a big, healthy grandbaby at that,” Ma said with a sigh, and I laughed and hugged her tightly.

By the time I made it back into the bedroom Rosalie was asleep. The baby was whimpering, so I picked him up and patted him to soothe him, and then walked back to the kitchen.

“She’s asleep,” I told Ma.

“That’s good. She did well, he’s not a small baby and that was a fast and intense labour,” Ma said. “Now Em, you should probably go over to the Allison’s and bring everyone else home for dinner.”

“But what about…” I held out the baby helplessly, and Ma laughed as she took him from me.

“I’ll put him back in his cradle and he’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry Em, newborns are tougher than they look!”

I ran on the way to the Allison’s, filled up with a brilliant, unnameable joy. The baby had been born, Rosalie was fine, and I had a son.

I knew that Ma was only the first person who would question it. Heck, I’d question it if it were someone else too. But in my heart I felt as certain about it as I’d ever felt about anything; blood or no, that little boy was mine. I’d been there with Rosalie while he grew inside her, I had watched him take his first breath, and I already loved him as my own.

Pa was up on the porch with Mr Allison and Jeb, all of them sipping at glasses of the famous Allison moonshine. They looked up and grinned at me as I approached.

“I told you they wouldn’t want you around,” Pa said. “Having babies is a job for the women…sit down and keep yourself calm.”

“Rosalie had it,” I said with a grin. “It’s a boy. He’s nine pounds and they’re both doing fine.”

“Well,” Pa said as the grin split his face. “Good on the girl! A boy, eh?”

“All the more reason for a drink,” Jeb said cheerfully, getting up and pouring another glass for me. “To Miss Rosalie’s baby!”

“To my son,” I said, and after only an infinitesimal pause the three men raised their glasses and we drank to my baby.

“The baby came?” Elizabeth came and crawled up on my lap, her face glowing. “A boy baby? What’s it called? Can I hold him?”

“He doesn’t have a name yet,” I said with a laugh. “And you’ll be able to hold him when we all go home for dinner.”

“Let’s go home now!” Elizabeth bounced. “What does he look like?”

“He looks like a baby.” I glanced across at Pa. “He’s got lots of dark hair, and dark eyes. He doesn’t look like Rosalie.”

“Babies change a lot,” Pa said carefully. “All that hair can fall out and grow back in a different colour…you never know what he’ll look like as he grows up. And it doesn’t matter really.”

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes contentedly. “It doesn’t matter at all.”

__________________________________________________

It was good to see the amount of happiness over the little baby when all the family trooped back to the house in the dusk. No one else seemed to have any reservations about him being part of the family as he was passed from one set of arms to the next, cuddled and kissed by everyone. Ma and Pa spoke quietly to each other out in the yard, but after that they joined in with the celebrations, and it did my heart good when Pa held out his arms and told Maggie to hand the baby over, because it was his grandaddy’s turn to hold him.

Eventually Ma pushed everyone out of Rosalie’s room and told us it was time to let her rest. I took the baby and sat out on the porch rocker in the dark, watching the fireflies and listening to the quick, light breathing of the little one as he slept on my chest.

“He’s probably getting a little hungry,” Ma said softly at my shoulder some time later, as the baby made some little mewing noises and shifted restlessly. “Do you want me to take him in to Rosalie?”

“I’ll do it,” I yawned.

“I’m going in to bed then,” Ma told me. “Tell Rosalie that if she needs me in the night, for _any_ reason, then she just needs to call, okay?”

“Okay.” I said good night to Ma and Pa, and then went quietly into Rosalie’s room. She was asleep, but almost instantly woke when the baby began crying.

“He’s hungry,” I whispered. “I’ll change his diaper and then you can feed him?”

Rosalie unbuttoned her nightgown and hesitated for a moment.

“I can go if you want,” I offered, not wanting to do anything that might make her uncomfortable.

“No,” she said slowly, reaching for the baby and letting the nightgown fall open. “I want you to stay with me.”

The baby’s cries stopped abruptly, and Rosalie grimaced. “I hope this gets easier.”

“It will.” I unlaced my boots and kicked them off, dropping my pants after them. Rosalie’s eyes were big as she looked at me, and I stopped and smiled at her gently.

“I just want to be with you,” I said softly. “I want to be with you and our baby tonight…that’s all.”

I waited until she nodded and then slipped out of my shirt and, just wearing my shorts, got into bed beside Rosalie, careful not to jostle her arm holding the baby. I slid an arm around behind her, and she shifted so that her head was resting on my shoulder. I kissed the blonde hair and looked down at the little dark-haired baby on her breast, his eyes closed and his jaws making periodic movements as he suckled. Feeling the heat of Rosalie all down my side, the perfect shape of her in my arms, the beautiful sight of the little one tucked in the circle of our arms…I didn’t think I had ever had a moment of such perfect peace.

“I love you,” I whispered into her hair. “You are the whole world to me, you know that?”

“Thank you for being there today,” Rosalie said in a low voice. “I was so scared without you.” She turned her head and pressed her lips against my throat. “Thank you for _always_ being there.”

“You did amazing today,” I told her sincerely. “I didn’t know that it was like that…you were so strong! And look at him, look at how perfect he is.”

Rosalie stroked the dark hair that was beginning to stick up in spikes on the baby’s head. “I was scared I wouldn’t love him,” she said, so low that I almost didn’t hear. “I thought if it was a boy…if it looked like Royce…I thought maybe I wouldn’t love him.”

“I don’t think you needed to worry,” I said gently.

“No,” Rosalie agreed, her voice full of wonder. “Not once I saw him…as if I couldn’t love him! As if he wasn’t so perfectly mine, and meant to be just who is he all along.”

“He needs a name,” I said. “Have you thought of something?”

Rosalie hesitated. “I didn’t. Not for a boy. It was hard…”

Her voice trailed off, and I suddenly realised what she wasn’t saying. That this baby _did_ have a name, but it was Royce King the third, and Rosalie had run away and rejected it long ago.

“You can call him whatever you want,” I said firmly.

“I can’t think of any boy’s names,” Rosalie said blankly.

“Family names?”

“What about _your_ family names?” Rosalie asked tentatively. “It might be nice if you gave him a name…”

I thought for a minute. I hadn’t given the baby my blood, but I could give him a name. “We could name him for my grandad,” I suggested at last. “He’s the one who taught me about horses. He was a real good man…he would have liked you. His name was James.”

“James Emmett,” Rosalie said slowly. “That’s nice.”

“James Emmett McCarty,” I said stroking a finger across his round little cheek. “That’s a good name. We can call him Jem, for his initials.”

Rosalie was very still. “McCarty?”

I curved my hand around her face and kissed her. “Yes,” I said, softly and firmly. “McCarty…after all, he’s going to be my son and I’m going to marry his mama, so it makes sense that he has my name right from the start.”

“You’re going to marry his mother?” Rosalie’s voice was very quiet.

“Well, you know…if she’ll have me.”

I squirmed a little, feeling my cheeks redden. I didn’t know a lot about romance, but I knew that _this_ was not the way a proposal was supposed to happen! But then again, most people weren’t proposing to their girl when she’d just given birth to someone else’s baby, so I supposed that allowances could be made.

“Do you doubt that she’ll say yes?” Rosalie said incredulously.

I laughed, and squeezed the arm I had around her shoulders. “Well, considering I’m proposing without a ring and hardly even wearing any clothes, let alone being down on my knees with flowers, I think she’d be well within her rights to turn me down!”

Rosalie’s face, pale and tired as it was, was beautiful as she looked up at me and smiled. “I think she had the ring and the flowers, and the proposal with him down on his knees before…and it didn’t mean anything, in the end. She wasn’t happy. So maybe she’s ready to make a change and try something new…if you were to ask her.”

I laughed a little as the baby burped and yawned in Rosalie’s arm, full and asleep. Rosalie blushed and put him down on the bed to button herself back up into her nightgown. I waited until she had finished and then I took both her hands and held them in between mine.

“Rosalie Lillian, I love you. I don’t have much, but what’s mine is yours and I promise to care for you and work for you and love you for the rest of my life. Please will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, and I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her, and the whole world was perfect.


	33. Everything I Never Knew

_He wants to marry me. I’m going to marry him._

I rested my head on Emmett’s chest, hearing the regular thump of his heartbeat as his arms wrapped around me. “I love you,” I murmured.

“My beautiful girl,” Emmett said tenderly. “I’m so happy you said yes.”

I ran a hand down his chest, tracing the ridges of his scars from the bear attack. “I said yes and I _do_ want to marry you, but you know it’s not that simple, right?”

“It’s simple enough for now,” Emmett answered. “Right now all I need to know is that you love me and you’ll marry me, and that you and I and baby Jem are going to be a family.”

_A family…how have I been so lucky?_

Baby Jem woke three times in the night. It felt odd and awkward having the baby on my breast, but I loved the way he would cry and then clamp down so fiercely, all his tears forgotten in his satisfaction in finding milk.

Emmett slept beside me, warm and solid and comforting. He woke when the baby woke and watched me feed him, his eyes sleepy and soft with love. When I lay back down to sleep he drew me against him and wrapped a careless arm around me, so that the two of us drifted off together, limbs intertwined and bodies close and warm.

I was surprised how well I slept with him there. I had never liked sharing a bed with Royce. Not just because of the sex, but because having him in my space, stealing the covers and touching me randomly all through the night had always felt wrong. But Emmett felt comfortable and oddly familiar and, despite being woken by the baby, I slept better than I had in weeks.

When baby Jem woke in the early morning, Emmett changed his diaper and then gave him to me to feed.

“I’ll get you some breakfast,” he promised.

I nodded, distracted by trying to get the crying baby to feed. Emmett disappeared, and a moment later I heard voices from the kitchen.

“Well, you didn’t waste any time, did you?” Miss Adeline said disapprovingly.

“What?” Emmett’s voice was sleepy. “What did I do?”

“Moving in there, with her…honestly Em, I would have expected better from you!”

“Ma! She just had a baby!” Emmett sounded a lot more awake.

“Exactly!” Miss Adeline snapped. “She just had a baby, and she gets six weeks with nothing in between her legs besides cloths soaked in witch hazel and those fancy panties she wears. She certainly doesn’t need your…”

“Ma!” Emmett cried indignantly. “I never did…as if I would! I just wanted to be with her, that’s all. I slept there, and I helped her with the baby. Really.”

“Ah Emmett, I’m sorry,” Miss Adeline sighed. “I just worry about you. It’s nothing against Rosalie, you know that I like her. She’s tried hard to settle in and she’s a good girl. But she doesn’t belong here for all that. She has a family and a husband somewhere else, and at some point she’s going to have to deal with that.”

“I know that.” Emmett was very quiet.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, like she outshines the stars. And she loves you, I’m sure of that…but I don’t know if that’s enough. There’s so much against you both, and I don’t want to see you hurt,” Miss Adeline finished softly.

“I can’t change anything now, Ma. I love her. There isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do for her,” Emmett’s voice rang with conviction. “Rose and that little baby in there…all I want is to be with them and take care of them. And I know that she has a husband and that I’m not really that little baby’s daddy and it might all come crashing down on my head, but I can’t do anything different now.” He paused. “I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

“She’s willing to settle here in Tennessee? Raise her babies without the privileges she was raised with?”

“I don’t…we haven’t talked about it,” Emmett said edgily.

“Well, it’s what you need to talk about. If she wants to marry you then you both need to talk about the husband she already has…”

“He _hit_ her Ma! He beat her…”

“I know that, and I’m not suggesting she go back to him. But she’s legally wed to him, and chances are that baby is legally his too. If you want to be with her and have other babies with her within the bounds of marriage, you’re going to have to sort out the issue of her husband.”

“I don’t know how,” Emmett admitted, his voice low. “I guess there’s divorce, but I don’t know how that works.”

“Well, you can find out. Rosalie may need to swallow her pride and get in touch with her parents and see if they can help…at least they might know someone in the law who can give some advice,” Miss Adeline said.

I made a face at the idea of contacting my parents, but then I thought about being able to show them my baby Jem and my heart softened. Mother had been thrilled when I had told her I was carrying him…surely now he was here she would want to see him?

“And I know Rosalie loves you,” Miss Adeline continued, but this time her voice was soft. “But she is going to need to think very hard about whether she can marry you. Because it’s not just about you, Emmett…she’ll be marrying a different way of a life if she chooses you. A different way of life for her and for her son, as well as any other babies the two of you have.”

“I’m not always going to be an unemployed bum,” Emmett said, hurt clear in his voice. “It’s going to change one day Ma, the economy is going to pick up and I’m going to make money for her, all the money we need.”

“You’ll do that, but it won’t be the money that Rosalie is used to. If she marries you she’s marrying a simpler way of life with a lot of hard work in it…there are rewards in it, but she’ll have to open her eyes to see them.”

I winced as Jem’s little gums bit down hard, but it wasn’t that that bought the tears to my eyes. Did Miss Adeline really see me as so shallow? Did she really think that I couldn’t look past the obstacle of my own selfishness to see the extraordinary gift in my life that Emmett had been?

“We’ll talk about all that,” Emmett said quietly. “But it won’t matter…I love her and I know she feels the same. I want to be with her, and if I have to do that outside the marriage laws then I will. And I don’t know what you’re thinking about Rosalie, but she’s a much stronger and more determined person than you seem to be giving her credit for. She’s lived here with us for months, and if she’s whined or complained to you then I haven’t heard it…she’s always done her best to fit in and make it work and she’s done a damned good job.”

“She has,” Miss Adeline agreed. “I didn’t want anything I said to sound negative about Rosalie! I’ve grown to love the girl, and I can see how, in a funny kind of way, that she is everything you need and want. I would never in a million years have picked her for you, but the two of you together just _work_ , and it only takes eyes to see that. But if you want your marriage to be forever, then you both need to go into it with your eyes wide open. You don’t want to leave room for ugly surprises and resentments to spring up.”

“I hear you,” Emmett said at last. “I promise you that I’m listening and thinking over what you’ve said.”

“Good boy. And now, I’m going to take this porridge into Rosalie and find out how my grandbaby did overnight.”

Miss Adeline came in with some steaming, milky porridge and then held the baby while I ate, changing his soiled diapers and asking me how feeding was going and how he slept. She kissed his tiny little hands with the long, slender fingers and kissed his toes with the tiny toenails like pearly little shells, and examined the stump of the umbilical cord, tied with a knotted bit of string.

“He’s a beautiful baby Rosalie,” she told me sincerely, wrapping him back up tightly, until he looked like a little bug just peeping out of a cocoon. “You did wonderfully with the birth, and feeding is going well…it’s marvellous. And you’re feeling well?”

I nodded and kept eating my porridge while Miss Adeline rocked the baby to sleep. Only once he was asleep did she speak again, her voice soft.

“And you’re comfortable with him? Considering…well, we’re all assuming he looks like your husband.”

I swallowed the last of my breakfast. “He looks just like him,” I admitted quietly. “The straight dark hair, the cleft chin…it’s all Royce. Even the baby’s eyes are kind of muddy, and I think they’ll turn dark.”

“They’re darker than any of my babies were at birth,” Miss Adeline said.

“But it doesn’t matter,” I said plainly. “I thought it would, but it doesn’t…he’s just his own little self, aren’t you baby Jem?”

“Baby Jem? He has a name?”

“James Emmett McCarty,” I said, watching carefully for her response.

But a wide smile was all that met my eyes. “That’s lovely. James for Emmett’s granddaddy? Emmett always looked up to him, and James had a real soft spot for him. He’d be tickled pink that Emmett named his baby for him.”

I smiled in relief. “I love him,” I said, and for once I thought of nothing but honesty. “I love Emmett, Miss Adeline, and I’m going to do my very best to make him happy. He means more to me than…well, more than I can say.”

“You heard all I said, then?”

I nodded. “I know that there’s a thousand reasons why Emmett and I together won’t work…but somehow, the truth is that we _do_ work. You said yourself that I’m what he wants, and he is…he is everything I never knew I wanted until I had it. I know there are so many things we need to work out, but I think we love each other enough to do the hard work it’s going to take.”

Miss Adeline leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Bless you, Rosalie, you’re a good girl. I know how much you love my boy, and how much he loves you, and I wish the two of you all the luck in the world. You know that Jack and I are behind you one hundred percent and will do whatever we can to help you both.” She laughed. “I never in my wildest dreams thought any of the boys would bring home a spoiled city princess for a wife! But there…you’ve settled down here and you already belong. Not to mention this little blessing!” She gave me the bundle of baby back and smiled. “I had better go and get the breakfast for the other children, I can hear them out on the porch. You just lie in bed and take it easy.”

I listened to everyone else eating, rocking the sleeping baby and thinking over what Miss Adeline and I had talked about, and what I had heard her speaking of with Emmett earlier. I thought about the hard work of running a household in poverty, and then I thought about marriage and what that entailed and I felt my stomach tighten with nerves. Emmett was nothing like Royce, and yet even so…

Emmett chose that moment to come back into the room, clean and scrubbed and smelling of soap, water glistening on his curly dark hair.

“What’s the matter, Rosa girl?” Emmett said instantly, seeing my face. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”

“No, he’s fine,” I said. “I was just…thinking about being married.”

Emmett raised his eyebrows. “And it put _that_ look on your face? I think you’d better talk to me, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t help laughing a little, and Emmett gave me a dimpled smile as he eased down onto the bed beside me. He slipped an arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him, loving the way our bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly.

“So I’m going to take a guess that you heard me and Ma talking this morning?” Emmett began.

I nodded, playing with the buttons on my nightgown. “I suppose she’s right that we have a lot to talk about.”

“Mmm.” Emmett was playing with my long braid of hair. “I guess it’s not just a matter of going to the minister.” He sounded unhappy.

“I’m sorry,” I said wretchedly. “I wish I’d never married Royce! I wish that we didn’t have any of that to deal with!”

“But if you hadn’t married Royce, would I have even known you?” Emmett asked practically. “I got the job because you and Royce got married and needed a driver. And if I’d never worked for you, then I would never have known you.”

“It meant so much to me to have you there,” I said in a low voice. “I never said it, and I wasn’t always willing to admit it even to myself, but having you be my friend was the thing that kept me going. You are the very best thing to come out of my miserable marriage…you and Jem and this family that we’re going to make.”

“I’m always going to be here for you. Always. I can’t offer you much right now, but I can give you that,” Emmett said, squeezing my shoulder.

“I don’t care that there’s not that much right now,” I said to him honestly. “I’m not as shallow as I was…so many things that I used to think were necessities I’ve learned to live without. There’s more to life than looking pretty at parties, and I think we’re doing okay here with your family for now. I know it can’t be that much longer until things pick up and you can get work.”

“It’s never going to be money like you grew up with though,” Emmett said seriously.

I shrugged. “That’s okay. I can learn to manage. If you can learn to cope with a wife who is so much worse a cook and housekeeper than your mother or your sister are!”

Emmett laughed, leaning over to nuzzle his face into my hair. “Yeah, but neither of them are so kick-ass with fixing up cars. You know…everyone looks at us and thinks it can’t work, that it makes no sense for us to be together. But when I’m with you…I never doubt, Rosa girl. You are everything I have always wanted.”

I looked back at him with my heart in my eyes. “And you…you’re everything I never knew I wanted until you were right there in front of me.”


	34. Making Plans

The afternoon bought visitors, with Mr and Mrs Allison and Jeb coming over with gifts for the baby and a bottle of whisky for me. I was touched that they’d made the effort. Usually people in our area would be there after a birth with casseroles and stews and baby gifts, as well as offers of help for the new mother, but the circumstances of Rosalie’s baby were unusual enough that for the most part our friends and neighbours had remained wary. It was nice to have the Allisons come over and give their best wishes.

“Aww Emmett, look at you!” Jeb laughed, climbing up the porch steps.

Sitting in the rocker with Jem asleep on my shoulder and drooling down my back, I grinned at him. “Just doing my bit to help out.”

Mrs Allison leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Congratulations Emmett. Now, let me have a look at this little darling, while I go and visit the new mother.” She scooped up the baby and then she and Ma disappeared inside to visit with Rosalie.

Jeb was still looking at me in amusement. “Who would have thought our hell-raiser Emmett was going to turn into Mr Domestic with a baby so quickly?”

“I wasn’t a hell-raiser,” I protested with a guilty laugh. It couldn’t be denied that I’d had a little more than my fair share of fun in my time.

Mr Allison chuckled, and Pa winked at me. “I don’t know Emmett. How many times have I had my belt to you?”

I rumpled my hair. “Well, I’m all grown up and responsible now I guess.”

“Well, congratulations lad,” Mr Allison said sincerely.

“So what next?” Jeb asked. “You having a wedding, or what? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think we’ll have to go to New York first and sort out Rosalie’s affairs there.”

It seemed as though that was the only option. Once Rosalie was up and about and we were both over the initial exhausting weeks with a newborn baby, we did what we could to find out what our next move should be. We asked the minister, and then we used the last of the money from selling Rosalie’s rings to consult with a lawyer. While he could have helped us it would have cost a fortune, which we didn’t have, and would be a very long and complicated process. He was also not familiar with New York law, and with Royce residing there it was probably where we would need to file. His suggestion was to go to New York and approach Royce directly, and hope that he was in agreement with us that divorce was the answer. Then we could all work at finding the easiest and quickest method of attaining one.

Glumly, Rosalie and I walked from his office back towards home. Neither of us spoke until we reached home and went into her bedroom. Rosalie lay down on the bed and began to feed the baby, and I lay carefully down beside her, looking at her softly.

“He’ll never agree,” she said flatly, as if we were in the middle of a conversation. “Not if he thinks it’s something I want.”

“Maybe he will?” I suggested hopefully. “I mean, we haven’t heard from him since he sent his lawyer down here. Maybe he decided that he doesn’t care if you want to spend the rest of your life with a bunch of…what was it? Oh yeah…inbred hillbilly hicks.”

Rosalie didn’t smile at my joke. “I think I’ve hurt his pride, and he’s not one to let that go. Imagine what everyone must have thought when his beautiful wife ran away…he’ll hurt me any way he can just to get back at me. But it’s not just me anymore. It’s Jem too. Whatever he feels about me, he’ll think that’s his baby and he should be the one to say how he’s raised.”

“Yeah.” My smile faded and I brushed my hand across the silky hair sticking up over my Jem’s head. He popped off Rosalie’s breast with a burp and lay asleep between us, his hands curled up in fists on either side of his head. The idea of someone, _anyone_ , trying to take this baby away from me made my heart lurch. _Not Royce King the Third…his name is James Emmett McCarty and he is ours!_

Rosalie rearranged her clothes, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby. “He can’t be allowed to have Jem,” she whispered fiercely. “He can’t. I don’t trust him not to hurt him.”

“No one is going to let him have Jem,” I said, knowing even as I said it that it was not going to be so simple.

“I want _you_ to raise him,” Rosalie said, leaning over the baby and kissing me with an unexpected ardour. “I want him to grow up to be a man like you, with integrity and honour. I don’t want him to grow up thinking that the world owes him what he wants, and that he can hurt people just because he feels like it.”

I kissed her back, feeling the heat and desire of her touch as her hands roamed over my shoulders and down my back. My body ached to touch her, and I would have rolled over her had I not heard the little squeak of Jem jammed in between us. I laughed a little ruefully and looked down at the round dark eyes looking up at me quizzically.

“Nice timing buddy,” I said, letting him grasp my finger.

Rosalie laughed, and then looked at me guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” My finger was in Jem’s mouth, his gums clamped down with surprising strength. I took his two tiny feet in one hand and brought them up to my lips so I could kiss the tiny toes.

“For…that. Because we haven’t…” Rosalie was floundering for the right words, her face bright red. “You might be the only person in the world to become a father without…”

“Hey,” I said gently, reaching over and touching her lip. “It doesn’t matter. One day…I’m good with waiting. You’ve only just had a baby.”

“It’s not just that though,” Rosalie said quietly. “After all, Jem’s over six weeks old now.”

“The marriage issue? I thought maybe you wanted to wait until we were properly wed.” I made a surprised face at Jem, opening my eyes and mouth wide and shaking my head, until I was rewarded with his wobbly, gummy smile.

Rosalie shifted restlessly. “No, it’s not even that. After all, the only grounds for divorce in New York seems to be adultery and I’m quite willing to bear the disgrace of being the guilty party if that’s what it will take for Royce to go along with it. I don’t think there’s a single person who believes that, when it comes to each other, we’re still chaste.”

 “What is it then?”

Rosalie looked away from me, tickling Jem with a long piece of hair which made him wrinkle up his nose and smile at her. As I watched him smile I was struck by the thought of how much that smile made him look like Rosalie.

“I’m scared,” she said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

“Of…me?” I asked softly.

“Maybe a little.” Rosalie still didn’t look at me. “I’m scared because…because it always hurt. Because it made him cruel. And I don’t want anything between you and I to change, and I’m scared if we bring that in then it will change. I love you Emmett, and I don’t ever want to be afraid of you, but…”

Her voice trailed off. I rolled off the bed and took Jem with me, keeping my back to Rosalie to hide my face as I took in her words. He had hurt her, in more ways than I knew, using that most intimate of acts against her. And now she was afraid that I was going to do the same thing, that maybe it was inevitable in a relationship. My heart ached with what she’d gone through, and the way the fears and worries must have plagued her.

Wrapping him up like a bug in a cocoon I placed Jem in his cradle, and I went back to lying on the bed with Rosalie, looking at her quietly.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked, her finger tracing a row of stitching on the quilt.

“Rosa girl, I’m never going to be angry with you for telling me what you are really thinking and feeling,” I said sincerely. “That’s how we make this work- by being honest with each other, and by sharing what’s going on in our heads. And you didn’t say anything to make me mad.”

“I didn’t know if it bothers you that I’ve done those things before. That you won’t be my first.”

I shook my head. “No. But your experience…sex isn’t meant to hurt you, beautiful girl. The fact that he _used_ it as a way to hurt you is unconscionable. I want to be with you in all the ways that a man and a woman can be together, but I want it to mean something. I want to touch you and make you feel good because I love you and because you _should_ feel good in your own skin. I want to be with you because I love you, and I want to be as close to you as I can. But it’s only going to happen when you’re ready to trust me, when you truly, honestly believe that I am not going to hurt you.”  

Rosalie moved closer, burying her face in the crook of my neck and shoulder. I held her, running my hand down her back and over the curve of her hip, listening to the distant sounds of the children out in the yard and Ma talking to Maggie and Hannah in the kitchen.

“Well,” Rosalie eventually said with a sigh. “I _do_ love you, and it seems almost a pity to be charged in court with adultery if we never even _did_ anything.”

I couldn’t help laughing, rolling onto my back with Rosalie sprawled half on top of me, smiling down coyly. I kissed her again, and then as Jem began to wail I sat up and tipped her back on to the bed. “Naughty girl,” I said with a grin, but inside I felt myself floating. She loved me, she trusted me, and she was going to be mine forever. “I love you,” I said, as I picked up the crying baby and handed him to her. “But our first time is not going to be with my Ma in the kitchen beside us and his royal highness here crying for attention.”

Rosalie took Jem and snuggled him into her shoulder, where he immediately stopped crying.  “Who loves his mama?” she crooned. “Which baby loves his mama so much that he’s going to stop crying?”

I wrapped my arms around both of them. “I love his mama,” I said to Rosalie with a grin, kissing her one last time for good measure. “But now I better go and chop some wood, because I promised my own mama that I would.”

I was still chopping wood when Pa came walking up the road from the Allison’s in the dusk. The rich scent of the stew we were having for dinner was drifting out from the open kitchen door, and I could hear the laughter of Rosalie and Hannah as they played with Jem on the porch. Elizabeth, Stephen and Will were grabbing up the wood as I split it and stacking it in the woodshed for me.

“Daddy!” Elizabeth cried gleefully, jumping into his arms.

Pa hugged her and smiled at the rest of us. I wedged the axe into a log and stretched, groaning. “Hey Pa…good day?”

Pa nodded and set Elizabeth down. “Not too bad. I’ve got some good news for you though.”

“Yeah? Stephen, some water for me?”

Stephen energetically pumped the handle and the water flooded out into my hands, which I then used to scrub my face and arms and hair. It was a warm evening and the cold water felt good and refreshing.

“Henry Allison sold the mare,” Pa told me cheerfully. “Got a good bit for her too, which he credits to the work you put in to her. He sent your share home with me.”

I stood up and dried myself off on my shirt before I took the envelope Pa had. I opened it up and my eyes widened- Henry Allison must have done well if this was my share. I couldn’t help my sigh of relief. After visiting the lawyer, Rosalie and I were down to our last dollar. This would allow me to give Ma and Pa a chunk of money to pay them back for our keep all this time, and some left over.

 “That’s great,” I said. “Thanks Pa.”

“Henry also had a suggestion,” Pa said, washing his own hands and face. “He was impressed with what you did with the mare, and wondered if you might want to do a similar thing? He’ll pick up something untrained but with breeding from the sales, you can train it, then he’ll sell it and split the profits again.”

“It sounds interesting,” I said truthfully. “You know how I like working with the horses, and it gives me something to do.”

“I thought it might be worthwhile doing while you’re not in any regular work,” Pa agreed.

The two of us walked over to the porch and sat down. I leaned close to Rosalie and kissed her neck under her hair, and handed her the envelope. “Look, proof I’m not a completely useless layabout…I made us some money.”

Rosalie peeked in and then gave it back to me with a strained smile. “That’s enough to get us to New York.”

“New York?” Pa said sharply. “You’re not planning on taking my grandbaby away to New York I hope?” He looked possessively over at Jem, lying placidly on a blanket while Maggie played peekaboo with him.

I shook my head. “Not permanently.” I glanced at Rosalie and then told Pa, “We saw the lawyer today. His best suggestion was to go to New York and try to talk to Royce. Adultery is grounds for divorce in New York, and everything is going to be a hell of a lot easier if we all just agree that it’s the answer and work cooperatively.”

“And you think this man will see it that way?” Pa asked doubtfully.

I shrugged. “Rosalie thinks not, but you never know. I mean, it’s pretty clear the marriage is over. Even though it’s not true, Rosalie will admit to adultery and take the blame if that’s what it takes to get him to agree. He’ll come out of it looking fine, and can move on.”

“What happens if he refuses?” Pa asked.

“Then we try something else,” I said, struggling to sound optimistic. “There are other states where we can stay long enough to qualify for residence and file there, if we have to go that route.”

I didn’t say how impossible that was. How on earth could we ever _afford_ the legal fees as well as the costs to stay in-state somewhere with more lax divorce laws? But Rosalie leaned her head against my arm and I kissed her hair, and I knew I would do whatever it took to make this work out for us.


	35. Going Back

**_ Chapter 35 – Rosalie – Going Back _ **

“I think we should leave for Rochester on Friday,” Emmett said to me thoughtfully.

I dropped the piece of straw I’d been using to tease the black and grey striped Emmett kitten. “What?”

“I think we should leave on Friday,” Emmett repeated.

“Why?” The kitten, obviously not ready to stop playing, pounced on my fingers since I had no straw, and I snatched my hand away.

“We have to go at some point.” Emmett scratched the kitten behind the ears and it immediately began to purr. It wasn’t only horses that responded to Emmett, all animals seemed to be magnetically attracted to him.

“But…did you mean _this_ Friday?”

Emmett nodded. “I don’t want to leave it too long. When that lawyer came he was pretty clear that Royce would want the baby once it came, and he would know it must have been born by now. I’d rather not be caught off-guard by him turning up on my doorstep with some legal papers that say he can take him.”

I looked uneasily around the yard. The leaves were beginning to turn, the summer harvests were all in, and the nights were beginning to cool. It would be obvious even to Royce that the baby, due late summer, must have been born. “He can’t do that.”

“We don’t know if he can or not,” Emmett said honestly. “And like I said…I don’t want to find out by him appearing in the yard one day with papers. I think that we might be better off if we go to him. At best we’ll catch him off-guard, at worst…well, we’re no worse off than we are now.”

“Why Friday?”

“Well, it gives us a couple of days to get ready. We don’t know how long we’re going to be gone, so we’ll have to take all Jem’s clothes and diapers and things, as well as our things. Also, if we leave on Friday then all going to plan we’ll hit Rochester on Sunday and can start business on Monday,” Emmett said reasonably.

It made sense, but that didn’t mean I wanted to do it. I felt so _safe_ here in Tennessee. I didn’t want to go back to New York, back to Royce’s reach. I didn’t want to take my baby Jem to a place that seemed fraught with dangers in my mind.

“What do you think?” Emmett persisted.

“It’s probably for the best,” I murmured. I looked anxiously out into the yard, where Elizabeth and Maggie were walking Jem in the enormous old pram that Mr McCarty had found at an estate sale. “It would be nice to feel that Jem’s future here is settled.”

“Not just Jem’s future either,” Emmett said with a grin, reaching across to caress my cheek. “My future too…because there’s a beautiful girl I want to marry, but first we need to mess around getting a little piece of paper saying that it’s okay.”

I smiled at him and shifted a little closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I know that you’re not looking forward to going to Rochester, and I’m not really looking forward to it either, but we have to. We may as well get it out of the way so that we can really start building our future.”

I knew Emmett was right, and so we began preparing for our trip. We packed our clothes, Jem’s clothes and diapers and blankets, and even packed a picnic basket full of food and drinks so that we wouldn’t have to buy everything along the way. I rechecked the work I’d done on the car, satisfied that the elderly vehicle was in the best shape that it could possibly be.

“We’re going to miss you all,” Miss Adeline said on the last evening. We were all enjoying a balmy fall twilight out on the porch, Miss Adeline cuddling a sleeping Jem while Mr McCarty enjoyed a quiet whisky and cigarette.

“We’re not moving away,” Emmett said a little impatiently. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“I know,” his mother sighed. “But we don’t know how long these things are going to take. And this dear little thing is growing and changing so quickly!”

That was certainly true. At two months old Jem had filled out and was plump and kissable and adorable, and seemed to be gaining more personality every day. He had started smiling a gummy, charming grin and his eyes continued to grow darker. Everyone in the family adored him.

“I sold one of the calves,” Mr McCarty said. “I thought it might help you a little, to have some money in reserve.”

“Aw Pa, thanks,” Emmett said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but we want to help out in any way we can,” Mr McCarty replied. “It’s not a lot of money, but take it with you anyway.” He grinned at me. “Consider it payment for all the milking you’ve done since I taught you, Rosalie!”

I laughed. After being taught how to milk when Emmett was recovering after the bear attack, I had been astonished to find that I took to it. I didn’t do it every day, but there was something so relaxing about going out to the barn and dealing with the quiet cows. I loved sitting by them, resting my head against the warm, hairy hides and listening to the swishing sound of the milk hitting the bucket. Besides, I’d also learned to love the warm, fresh milk and I always liberally rewarded myself with it when I did the milking.

“She’s becoming as backcountry as the rest of us,” Emmett said proudly. “Look at all the things she’s learned to do since she came here.”

I nudged his arm. “Oh, stop it.” But secretly I was pleased, because in truth I had learned many things during my time in Tennessee, and milking was only one of them. I had learned to swim, to fix cars, to bathe in a tin tub and ignore spiders in the outhouse. I’d learned that what other people thought of me didn’t always have to matter, and that there are some things that matter more than pretty.

More than anything, I had learned about love. Love for the family who had taken me in and given me a place to belong. Love for Emmett, who had saved me from a nightmare and set me free. Love for the little baby who had been born from a nightmare and yet fulfilled a dream. I had learned about love that was open and unselfish and always, always enough.

_______________________________________________________

Lying beside me, Jem nursed with blissful concentration, one hand clutching a fistful of my hair and the other tucked away between us. I stroked the dark hair that had continued to grow in wild disarray over his head and tucked the blanket up to his shoulders. I loved his last feed of the evening, when I would take him into bed and the two of us would curl up together while he nursed himself to sleep.

“How is he going?” Emmett said quietly, entering the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

“He’s nearly asleep,” I said, watching the baby’s heavy lids finally close. Only a few moments later his hands relaxed enough that I could release my hair from his grip and sit up, rearranging my nightgown into some semblance of modesty. Jem rolled on to his back, snoring.

With a tenderness that I never tired of watching, Emmett lifted Jem and placed him in his crib. “Goodnight little buddy,” he whispered, before kissing his fingertips and touching them to the baby’s cheek.

Emmett’s shirt was half unbuttoned, and I could see the way the scars stood out, twisted and ridged, and a livid red and purple colour against the tan of the rest of him. They were harsh and ugly, but I loved them as a tangible sign of Emmett’s strength and bravery, and had never come to think of them as a flaw.

“What are you looking at?” Emmett raised a quizzical eyebrow.

I shrugged. “Just your scars…thinking how glad I am that you’re still here.”

“It’ll take more than a bear to do me in,” Emmett said cheerfully. He hesitated for a moment, looking down at me in bed, and then indicated the pillow next to me. “Okay if I…?”

I nodded and scooted over a little to make room for Emmett, who lay down beside me and wrapped his arms around me with a sigh. I tucked my head down onto his shoulder, where it seemed to fit just so perfectly, and stroked the lines of his scars through the shirt with my fingertips.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Oh, angel girl!” Emmett almost squeezed the breath out of me. “I don’t even know how to tell you how much I love you.”

“Is something wrong?” I ventured a moment later, a little disturbed by the tight, tense way that Emmett’s arms were gripping me.

The pause was so long that I wasn’t sure he was even going to answer, but finally Emmett relaxed his arms and kissed my head and whispered hoarsely, “Please don’t let this be different in New York.”

“Let what be different?” I asked, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“ _This_ ,” Emmett said, tipping my face up and kissing my lips. “You and I, and what there is between us.” He kissed me again, harder this time. “I don’t want that to change.”

“It won’t,” I said, returning his kisses. “Why would it? You mean everything to me.”

“Yeah…you can say that here,” Emmett said soberly. “But things _are_ different in Rochester. You’re someone important and I’m just nobody. You’ve grown up a lady and I was your chauffeur, and going back there you’re going to be reminded of that.”

I tried to shake my head, but Emmett just smiled at me a little sadly. “We’ll go back and you’ll see what you used to have and remember who you used to be. People are going to look at us and we’re going to be judged. They’ll judge you for slumming it, and think of me as a gold digger or worse, and I guess I’m scared that it will matter to you.”

“It won’t,” I said certainly. “I’m not like I used to be Emmett, you know that.”

“But what about if it’s not just strangers?” he persisted. “What about if it’s your parents? You realise they might well refuse to let me in their house right?

“Oh, surely not!” I exclaimed, shocked at the idea.

“Well…possibly!” Emmett returned. “Look at it from their point of view. You were married to King and had everything in the world at your fingertips, and then you ran away with a lowly chauffeur- gardener- handyman. Who is currently unemployed and mostly sleeping on his parents’ sofa…this is nothing at all like what they wanted for you Rosalie.” He sounded sad.

“I don’t care.” I pushed myself closer to him and looked him fiercely in the face. “As you said, I had it all and it wasn’t enough. And now I have you, and you’re everything I want in the world. Here in Tennessee, there in New York…anywhere. It doesn’t matter Emmett, it’s always going to be you and I, and nothing anyone else can say is going to make any difference. We’ll go to Rochester together, we’ll do what we have to do, and we’ll come home again still together. I promise.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, we fell asleep.

Jem’s wails woke me in the dawn light. Emmett was gone, his place taken by Elizabeth who woke up as I settled back in bed with the baby, who was waving furious fists about and making desperate lunges at my breast. The noise cut off abruptly as he found the nipple.

“Is it today that you’re going to New York?” Elizabeth asked.

I nodded. “We’re going to leave after breakfast.”

“You _are_ coming back though, aren’t you?” Elizabeth said anxiously. “You’re not going away forever?”

“We’re only going to New York for a short while, you know that,” I said patiently, adjusting Jem as he greedily sucked down milk.

“Maggie says if she went to New York she would never come home again,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, that’s Maggie,” I said. “Emmett and I just have to go to New York for a little while, to sort out some things and then we’ll be back. We don’t want to live in New York again.”

Elizabeth nodded morosely. “I wish you didn’t have to take Jem with you. I could look after him.”

I laughed as I held him upright and patted his back, waiting for the long rolling burp. “He might get pretty hungry if I wasn’t here,” I said to her, tucking my clothes back into order. “But don’t worry Elizabeth. He’ll miss you, and we’ll be home as soon as we can.” I had no desire to linger any longer than strictly necessary in Rochester.

At her request I left the baby in bed with Elizabeth, who I knew was going to miss him terribly. She adored Jem, and was always willing to entertain him. In return she was one of his favourite people, and had been the first recipient of his wobbly early grins after me.

I dressed quickly and went into the kitchen, helping myself to some porridge from the pot. Through the window I saw Emmett packing a suitcase and a picnic basket into the car, and I guessed he had been up early, doing the milking and making last minute preparations. I poured some sugar across the top of the porridge and began eating.

“Make sure you write and let us know if there’s news,” Miss Adeline reminded me, sitting beside me with a cup of tea.

“Hopefully if there’s news we’ll just be on our way home,” Emmett said, coming in with the door banging behind him. “Rosa girl, that’s everything we need. Just cross your fingers that baby Jem doesn’t get carsick.”

Half an hour later everyone came out for farewell hugs and to wish us good luck. Even Mr McCarty delayed leaving for work until after he’d kissed me on the cheek, tickled Jem, and hugged Emmett, wishing us well and giving his own instructions about sending them news. But finally Emmett and I climbed into the car, which started with ease and soon had us bouncing down the potholed road, the family disappearing behind us in the distance. The last thing I saw was Elizabeth, Will and Stephen, running as hard as they could to keep up for as long as they could, waving a wild goodbye.


	36. Rochester

The three days we spent on the road were an unexpected pleasure. Far from being carsick, Jem was fascinated by the scenery passing us by and seemed to love being jounced to sleep in someone’s arms as the car bumped along.

I taught Rosalie to drive and in the end she drove most of the way when Jem wasn’t demanding milk. It seemed crazy that she was the one keeping the car on the road and yet couldn’t drive it. Rosalie loved driving, and she was the one behind the wheel when we finally pulled up to a stop outside the large, gracious home of her parents.

Rosalie stared at the house for a moment, her face blank. “It looks just the same,” she said with a slight inflection of surprise. “I suppose there’s no reason why it wouldn’t,” she allowed a moment later. “But I’ve changed so much…”

“Come on,” I said gently. “There’s no point waiting and worrying…tidy up your hair and let’s go and say hi.”

Rosalie rapidly brushed the tangles out of her hair and pinned it neatly while I changed Jem’s diaper and put a clean dress on him. Rosalie smoothed a hand across his hair, which immediately sprang back up in spikes.

“They’ll love him, won’t they?” she said to me, suddenly uncertain.

I swung the baby up in to the crook of my arm and wrapped the other arm around Rosalie, squeezing her tight and kissing her just behind her ear. “They’ll love him,” I said to her. “After all, they love you. Remember that Rosalie, they really do love you. They always wanted the best for you, but they maybe didn’t know what the best rightly was.”

Rosalie took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s go then.”

I followed her up the front walk to the elaborate front door surrounded by leadlight windows. Rosalie grasped the brass knocker, took a deep breath and knocked.

“Rosalie!”

Mrs Hale answered, and then clutched the door and trembled as though she’d seen a ghost. Her face went white, and for a moment all she did was gape as us.

“Hello Mother,” Rosalie said quietly. “How are you?”

“Rosalie! My goodness, I…” Her eyes travelled upwards to look at me, and then down to Jem, who was gnawing on his fist and staring at her. “Oh, my word.”

“You would remember Emmett McCarty, of course,” Rosalie said. “And this is Jem.” She smiled at the baby who smiled back at her adoringly.

“Oh, my goodness,” Rosalie mother said again. She was still clutching the door for support, and her eyes flicked unbelievingly between Rosalie and Jem. “He’s the spitting image…”

“Perhaps we could come inside?” Rosalie interrupted smoothly. “I’d rather talk inside than here on the doorstep.”

“My goodness…yes, of course, come in.” Mrs Hale stepped back.

I followed Rosalie across the front hallway and into the sitting room. I couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward as I sat beside her on the sofa. I’d been to the Hale’s house plenty of times when I worked for Rosalie and Royce, but I’d always sat in the kitchen or waited out in the car. I had certainly never sat down with her mother to socialise.

Mrs Hale couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Jem. “Rosalie…when? He’s lovely! But…what did you do? Why did you never contact us? And Royce was beside himself when we didn’t know where you were!”

Rosalie stiffened. “What did he say?”

“No one knew what had happened to you! It wasn’t until Royce hired a private detective that we discovered you were in Tennessee. Honestly Rosalie, what were you _thinking_?” She shook her head, dazed. “Don’t you think you owe everyone an explanation?”

Rosalie glanced at me. “That’s partly why I’ve come back- to explain things, and try and sort it out.”

“Well, that’s not going to be a simple thing!” Mrs Hale fussed. “Royce is dreadfully hurt and angry Rosalie. He was quite _desperate_ to have you back, but now…well, I just don’t know…”

“I didn’t come back to make up with Royce,” Rosalie said flatly. “My marriage to Royce is over, Mother. You need to accept that.”

“But that’s impossible! You’ve got a child! You…”

“No!” Rosalie was shaking. “Mother, stop! You don’t know what it was like! He hurt me all the time!”

Mrs Hale, wrung her hands in agitation. “What are you saying Rosalie?”

Sensing all the tension in the room, Jem opened his mouth and wailed. Mrs Hale jumped and Rosalie immediately reached across for the baby, cuddling him close and whispering into his ears. When she looked up at her mother again, she was quiet and calm.

“He hurt me Mother, for no reason other than it gave him pleasure to do so,” she said softly. “He hit me when he was angry, even when I was pregnant he would hit hard enough to leave bruises. The night I left him he hit me in the face and then broke my arm.”

Mrs Hale covered her eyes with her hands for a moment. “Oh Rosalie.”

“I’m sorry about making you worry,” Rosalie said sincerely. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, but I was scared.”

“Oh, I just don’t know _what_ to think. Royce has always been such a gentleman,” Mrs Hale said, sounding almost bewildered. “You were so happy with him!”

“I wasn’t happy,” Rosalie said steadily. “Mother, please try and understand. He hurt me and I didn’t know what to do. I knew everyone would be so disappointed with me…but it was too much. I couldn’t keep living like that. Something had to change.”

“But to run away!” Mrs Hale exclaimed tragically. “Rosalie, you have no idea of the scandal!”

Rosalie rolled her eyes impatiently, and then passed Jem to me. “I’m going to go and get some tea,” she said through gritted teeth.

Jem wailed as Rosalie left, and I rocked him and made faces at him, to no avail. Mrs Hale watched, and after a moment she said hesitantly, “How old is he?”

“Two months,” I answered.

Rosalie came back in. “Joanna is going to bring something in in a moment,” she announced as she sat down beside me and took the crying baby. “Come on then little bear,” she murmured, unbuttoning her dress to feed him.

“Rosalie!” Mrs Hale was obviously scandalised. “Not in front of…” Helplessly she nodded in my direction.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s nothing Emmett hasn’t seen before,” Rosalie said impatiently.

“So you really are…” Mrs Hale paled. “Good heavens Rosalie!” She seemed more horrified by the idea of Rosalie and I together than she had been by the idea that Royce had hit her.

Joanna came in with a tray holding some afternoon tea. She left it on the table and since Rosalie was occupied with Jem and her mother seemed in need of a rest from the shock of Rosalie breastfeeding in front of me, I went and poured tea, fumbling with the delicate china as I passed it out.

“I want to marry your daughter,” I said eventually in to the silence. “Rosalie came home to Tennessee with me to get away from Royce, but I’ve always behaved honourably towards her. We’ve come back here to try and straighten everything out.”

Rosalie smiled at me, and reached across to gently touch my hand. “Emmett and I are in love, and he wants to marry me and be a father to Jem,” she told her mother. “We’ve come back because I need to divorce Royce. I wanted to see you and Father too, to show you Jem and let you know that I’m doing well.”

“Doing well…” Mrs Hale repeated faintly.

“I’m happy,” Rosalie said simply. “I hope you can understand that and be happy for me.”

“But a divorce!”

“It’s the only option if I want to marry again, which I do,” Rosalie said imperturbably. She adeptly detached Jem from her breast and covered herself up, patting his back briskly. “But you haven’t said what you think of the baby! He’s your first grandchild.”

Mrs Hale shook her head. “I simply wasn’t expecting this today! But of course, the baby…he’s lovely.” Her face softened as she looked at Jem lolling over Rosalie’s forearm with a milk-drunk look of bliss. “Perhaps I could hold him?”

Rosalie’s face lit up and she hurried across the room to place Jem in her mother’s arms. “He was born two months ago,” she told her.

“And it all went well?” I could just about see Rosalie’s mother melting as Jem lay in her arms and regarded her seriously.

“It did,” Rosalie said softly. She knelt by her mother and touched a finger to Jem’s lips. “I had him at home and it was very quick; he was nine pounds.” 

“He’s a dear little thing Rosalie…so big and strong! And you call him Jem?”

“James Emmett McCarty,” Rosalie answered.

Mrs Hale actually winced.

“I’m just going to go outside for a cigarette,” I said untruthfully, ignoring Rosalie’s look of surprise. Without waiting for anyone to say anything I jumped to my feet and let myself out onto the front porch. There were roses growing alongside it and as I took in several deep breaths I caught their heavy scent. It made me think of Rosalie, and I hoped that she’d be able to maintain the fragile peace between her and her mother.

It was only a short time later that Rosalie came out, finding me sitting on one of the porch chairs, half asleep.

“I’m sorry about all that,” she said directly.

I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. It’s kind of what I expected, really…I just thought you might do better without me sitting there like a lump.”

Rosalie sighed and leaned against the house. “Well, on the plus side she thinks Jem is adorable.”

“On the downside she nearly had a heart attack when you told her his name,” I countered.

Rosalie giggled. “I liked your excuse for getting out of there – I don’t blame you for wanting to escape. But I told her again, very strongly, that I love you. I also said that you and your family have been taking care of me for the past few months, and that I’m grateful for that and that she should be grateful that I had somewhere to turn.”

“So what now?”

“Father will be home from work soon, so we’ll have to go through the whole explanation again. But Mother has said we can stay here for the moment. Mother has been better than I was afraid of. She hasn’t been _nice_ to you, but she hasn’t been rude either. And while she’s cross that I seemingly don’t understand the scandal I left behind me, she also seems to have accepted the reason why I left.” Rosalie crossed her arms and added, “I _do_ understand that I left a scandal and that I embarrassed her with my disgraceful behaviour but the thing is, I simply don’t _care._ ”

I reached across and touched her arm, and a sudden, vivid smile lit up her beautiful angel face. I was reminded once again of the first time I saw her and the way it had changed the world for me.

“Do you have any idea how freeing it is to _not care_?” she demanded. “To know that there’s gossip and speculation and disapproval and yet not care what people are thinking?” She laughed joyously and swooped down to plant a quick kiss on my lips. “I care about _you_ ,” she said, low and passionately. “I care about what _you_ think.”

I groaned and brought her closer for another kiss, harder and more ardent. “I love you.”

“Come inside,” Rosalie said a little breathlessly. “Mother has promised to be nicer to you. And kissing on the porch like this…I might not care anymore, but Mother certainly does and I think I’ve given her enough to cope with today.”

Mrs Hale was pacing in the living room, Jem now relaxed and asleep in her arms. I noticed that he was gripping her pearl necklace in his little fist, but that even though he was asleep she hadn’t peeled his fingers away.

“He’s a darling little baby,” she told Rosalie. “Just went right to sleep…but how have you been managing? Surely you had a baby nurse?”

Rosalie looked amused, I suppose at the idea of the luxury of a baby nurse and the reality of what it was like. “No Mother,” she said cheerfully. “There wasn’t money for anything like that. But I managed just fine with Emmett’s mother and his sisters to help me. They all love the baby.”

“Oh dear,” Mrs Hale shot me an uncomfortable look. “Do you have a …a big family then, McCarty?....Emmett.”

“Ten of us all together ma’am,” I said, a little awkwardly. “But just six of us at home still. The girls are sixteen and eleven and five years old, and they love helping Rosalie with the baby.”

“Well, I suppose your mother has plenty of experience then!” Mrs Hale shook her head. “You must have a very large house for so many.”

“It’s big enough,” Rosalie said with a laugh, and I loved her just a little bit more.

We heard the front door open and the heavy footfalls of her father. Not sure what to expect I braced myself, but all Mr Hale did when he reached the living room door was stare blankly.

“Hello Father,” Rosalie said.

“Princess?” He looked at Rosalie incredulously. “You’ve come back?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Rosalie answered. “I’ve come back to try and sort things out.” She took Jem gently out of her mother’s arms and carried him across to her father. “I thought you might like to meet your grandson.”

Like his wife had, Mr Hale softened in the face of the baby. “Ah Rosalie honey…doesn’t he look just like his father, though! Royce will be so pleased.”

For a moment I wanted to hit him. Jem was _my_ son, not Royce’s, and I hated the way everyone here seemed bent on reminding me otherwise.

Rosalie stiffened. “I haven’t come back for Royce. And Jem is _mine._ ”

Mr Hale frowned helplessly. “But Princess…you’re married! You don’t just walk away! I know you’ve been away for a while, but I’m sure you and Royce can…”

“No,” Rosalie said bluntly. “We can’t. I’ve already explained this to Mother, but I didn’t come back in order to try and fix anything with Royce. He was abusive when we were married and I don’t want to live like that anymore. I’ve been living with Emmett and his family, and I’m going to marry him as soon as I can arrange a divorce from Royce.”

Mr Hale glared at me. “You? Who are you to want to marry my daughter?”

“I’m Emmett McCarty sir,” I said. “And I _do_ want to marry Rosalie.”

He rolled his eyes. “You want my daughter to divorce the heir to the biggest fortune in the city, and marry you? Her former chauffeur?”

I looked at him steadily. “I don’t have money sir, that’s true. But I’ve got a family who is helping us out and I’m willing to work hard to take care of my responsibilities. Rosalie won’t be rich with me, but she will always be safe and loved, which isn’t something you could say she had with Royce.”

“It’s what I want, Father,” Rosalie said simply. “Emmett is a better man than Royce in all the ways that matter…I won’t be treated the way Royce treated me again. Someone who says they love you shouldn’t hurt you.”

“Aww Rosalie, honey…we only ever wanted the best for you,” Mr Hale said. “We really thought you’d be happy with Royce! Surely, if he’s willing to change, you can make things work?”

Rosalie shook her head. “It went too far for that, Father. When I say no more, I mean it…I’m going to go and see Royce tomorrow and ask him for a divorce. I really hope you and Mother can accept that things have changed.”

“I can’t say I like it, Princess,” her father said honestly. “But I don’t like the idea of someone hurting you either. I’m willing to sit down with you and…Emmett and talk about things. But first, you’d better give me that baby and let me get to know my grandson a little.”

 


	37. Royce

I woke in the morning when Jem began making fussy noises from what had been my own baby cradle, brought down from the attic by Emmett the previous day. I stretched, luxuriating in the feather bed and beautiful linens, and then scooped up the baby and brought him back to bed with me for his morning feed.

It felt strange to be back in my girlhood bedroom. So much had changed since I last slept here, the night before my wedding. I remembered how naïve and hopeful I had been and sighed. There had been so many hard lessons since then!

Jem drank himself into a stupor and went right back to sleep when I put him in the cradle. With a gleeful little skip of my heart I ran a deep, hot bath and, with the door cracked so I could hear the baby if he woke, I sank into it with a little moan of delight. Oh, I had missed this! I stretched my legs out, and then leisurely washed my hair, loving the luxury of soaking in the big, claw foot tub.

Eventually the water had cooled too much, and I reluctantly got out and dried myself off, dressing quickly in the bathroom and then hurrying back to the bedroom where I could hear Jem.

He wasn’t upset though. He was babbling in Emmett’s arms, the two of them over by the window, looking at the big oak tree that grew right outside.

“Hello!” I said brightly.

Emmett turned to me with a subdued smile. “Hey Rosa-girl.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ll have to see what your Ma has for you downstairs,” he said, avoiding the question. “She was out at first light and just got home. She’s been shopping.” He kissed Jem’s spiky head. “No more homemade dresses for this little one, I guess.”

Before I could say anything, Mother came bustling in with her hands full. “Rosalie darling, I did a quick bit of shopping this morning. Just the essentials, you know, some lovely baby things from the department store for James. I bought you some dresses too, your things are dreadfully worn. They’re quite disgraceful.” Without waiting for me to even say anything she thrust a dress box into my hands and snatched Jem from Emmett and sailed back out the door.

I slowly opened the box and saw two pretty, floral dresses. I drew one out, and then tossed them both onto the bed and went to stand beside Emmett, who was now staring out the window.

“What is it?” I said softly, leaning against his arm.

“I didn’t think it would be so hard to see you here, where you belong. With all this luxury…” Emmett’s voice cracked. “Your parents have bought more for you and Jem this morning than I’ve been able to give you in months. You deserve so much better than what I can give you.”

“Emmett.” I wrapped my arms around him and pressed myself against his chest listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want any of that more than I want you.”

Emmett tipped up my face so that I was looking straight into his sky-blue eyes that for once bore no hint of humour. “I love you. But I want you to be sure, Rosa-girl.”

“I am very, _very_ sure.” I kissed him lightly. “I’ll admit, I enjoyed my bath this morning and I’m going to wear that very pretty new dress that my mother bought me! But it doesn’t _matter_ to me the way it used to. And even though we’ve only been gone a few days I already miss your family, and I can’t wait until it’s just you and Jem and I down at the river.”

Emmett laughed suddenly, and swung me up in his arms, kissing me until I was breathless. “Beautiful girl, I love you so much! And I promise that when I make some money, the very first thing I’m going to do is build you a bathroom to go with your bedroom!”

_________________________________________________

Mother certainly had bought more clothes for Jem in one quick shopping trip than I had been able to sew for him in the months before he was born. When I went downstairs I found him looking quite unlike himself in a white lawn baby dress trimmed with blue ribbons and a matching bonnet, lying propped up on the sofa. Mother was sitting beside him, helping him hold up a silver ring teether to his mouth so that she could suck on it.

“Doesn’t he look beautiful?” she said proudly.

“Beautiful,” I confirmed. “Thank you for buying him some new clothes.”

“Oh, he needed them!” Mother said. “Really Rosalie, I would have thought…”

“Mother, please don’t start,” I said wearily. “Emmett’s family are really not well-off. I did what I could, and I’m grateful for what they were able to help with.”

“Oh yes, but you’re used to better things!” Mother persisted.

I was relieved when I heard the front door and Joanna came in. I had asked her to go to Royce’s house and tell him I was back, and to ask if he was free for me to go and talk to him.

“I told him you were back, and I told him about the baby,” she told me, handing me a folded note. “I thought it best not to mention Emmett.”

I opened the note with fingers that shook slightly.

_Rosalie,_

_I will expect to see you and my son at your earliest convenience._

_Royce._  

I felt sick. I couldn’t take Jem. I didn’t trust Royce an inch, and I didn’t want the beautiful innocence of my Jem touched by the sick darkness of him. I also didn’t want to give Royce any reason to fight me…in the abstract he might possibly agree to give up his son, but it would be a different matter if he saw that baby, simply a miniature version of him.

I went in search of Emmett, finding him out in the backyard weeding around some rosebushes.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said to him.

Emmett shrugged and brushed off his hands. “Gives me something to do…what’s up?”

Silently I passed him Royce’s note, watching his face darken as he read it and hearing the low rumble of anger from deep within his chest. “When are we going?”

“I think I should go alone,” I said carefully.

“No,” Emmett said flatly.

“But…”

“No. Last time you were alone with him he broke your arm…you’re not going near him without someone to look out for you.”

“I am going to,” I steadily. “It’s the only way there’s even a chance of him agreeing to do what we want and accede to the divorce. Think about it Emmett…what’s going to happen when you and he lay eyes on each other?”

“I guess we’d be moving pretty quickly to laying fists on each other,” Emmett admitted wryly. “And the way I feel about the bastard I’d end up killing him for sure. So okay…not me. But you could take your father.”

I shook my head. “Father works with Royce and his father, and if possible I’d like to not ruin that. I think it’s better that he stays out of it, at least for now. No Emmett, the best way is for me to go and try to talk to him, while you keep Jem safe here.”

“I don’t like the idea,” Emmett said stubbornly. “He’s dangerous.”

I shook my head. “I’m just going to talk to him. If he starts losing his temper I’ll leave. Honestly Emmett, it’s the best way.”

He didn’t agree, but there was little he could do about it and so after lunch I left Emmett and Jem at my parents’ house, and walked to what had once been my home. I was surprised at how little emotion it raised in me when I was there. It was a beautiful showpiece house but I realised, as I knocked on the door and waited, that it had never felt like home.

“Rosalie.” Royce opened the door himself.

“Royce.” I didn’t know what else to say.

He stepped back and gestured towards the small sitting room. I walked ahead of him, slightly unnerved to see how little had changed. Even my cream handbag was still on the hall table where I had carelessly left it so many months ago.

In the sitting room I took an armchair, and Royce stood before the unlit fireplace, staring down at me. It gave me a jolt to see his resemblance to Jem.

As if he could read my mind and knew I was thinking about the baby, Royce said quietly, “You didn’t bring my son.”

“I thought we should talk first,” I said.

“What’s to talk about?” Royce shrugged and continued to stare at me, his eyes glittering. “You left, Rosalie. Now it seems you’ve got tired of slumming it with the chauffeur and you’ve come crawling back. Well, I’m not sure that I want you back anymore.”

“I didn’t come back for that,” I said softly. “You and I…that’s over Royce. I came back because I want a divorce.”

“Well, I might just be willing to give you one,” Royce said with a laugh. “Once you give me my son.”

“No,” I said flatly. “Jem’s mine. Anything else you want is yours. I’ll let you blame me for the divorce, I’ll admit guilt of adultery in court, I won’t ask for any kind of settlement, I’ll go away and you can pretend I never even existed, but you can’t have Jem.”

Royce laughed again. “My dear, deluded girl…you think you have any choice? You think that the law isn’t on my side? You’re a whore who is not fit to raise a child and I’ll prove that in court. The things that I can say about you, Rosalie! You’ll never be able to hold your head up again, once I’m through with you. And the baby will be mine.”

I felt sick terror rising up in my stomach, and I tried not to let my voice shake as I said, “I know things about you too. What do you think people would think of some of the stories I could tell about you?”

Royce snorted. “You have no proof of anything. I, on the other hand, have plenty of evidence of your immoral behaviour. Face it Rosalie, it’s a done deal. You give me the baby and I’ll give you your divorce and you can spend the rest of your life down in the dirt with the dogs. I’m no longer interested in you. But my son is a King, and he will be raised as one. I won’t let you raise him among hillbillies, sluts and halfwits.”

“The McCarty’s are nothing like that, and Emmett is _twice_ the man you are,” I spat. “He’s been a better father to Jem in two months than you’ll _ever_ be…”

“Shut up, bitch!”

The words barely registered before Royce had his hands in my hair, using them to slam me headfirst into the occasional table before he dragged me to the floor. The blow to my head was hard enough to make everything spin dizzily about me, and I was barely aware for the moment it took Royce to straddle me, both my wrists caught in one strong hand and held up above my head. His other hand fumbled in his pocket for a moment before he withdrew a pearl handled pocket knife, the blade glinting sharply as everything came back into clear, terrible focus.

“You think he loves you?” Royce’s face was so close I could feel droplets of moisture as he hissed at me. “You think he wants anything other than your pretty face and your money? Well, you don’t have any money now…what do you think he’s going to do when you’re not so pretty anymore?” And there was a silver flash as Royce struck.

I screamed.

It was like a line of fire down the side of my face, and Royce laughed as I screamed again and struggled like a mad thing underneath him, desperate to free myself. My face burned and I could smell the warm, coppery scent of blood and feel it dripping down into my ear and running into my hair.

“I’ve marked you for the slut you are…just think how that pretty face is going to look with scars, Rosalie. Big, ugly scars…”

“You can’t do this!” I gasped. “You won’t get away with it.”

Royce grinned, and for the first time I began to think he might be genuinely mad. “I’ve got away with it before,” he said slyly, bending low to whisper at me. “Those girls that my friends and I played with in the street…some of them died, you know. Never came back on to us. Any hint of a scandal, Father pays them off. He knows lots of important people…the thing is Rosalie, I can do _anything_ I want with you and I’ll get away with it…”

I head-butted him in the face. As hard as I could, feeling pain like a knife through my skull as my already bruised head connected with his. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him out, but it was hard enough to make him rear back and release my wrists, giving me a moment to fight.

I twisted wildly, shoving and scratching and kicking at Royce so that he fell sideways and freed my legs.  The knife fell between us, and both of us grabbed for at the same time. Royce got there first.

I felt it slice into my fingers, scrape across my forearm, narrowly miss my face again. The pain was excruciating, my nerves screaming as the tears flooded my eyes, making me fight almost blindly, grabbing at Royce’s hands to hold the knife away from me.

“Stupid bitch! You’ll be so _sorry_ for this…” Royce panted. His eyes were bright with rage as he tore at my clothes with his free hand, using his greater weight and height to push me backwards to the floor.

“No!” I wrapped both hands around Royce’s fist that held the knife, and then brought my knee up hard into his groin, making him double over with a bellow. “I…said… _NO_!”

I didn’t mean it what happened then. I didn’t mean it. _I didn’t mean it._

Or maybe I did.

Royce’s fist was still gripping the knife, but both my hands were wrapped around his and, strong from months of milking cows and kneading bread, I was able to bend his wrist so that the knife no long threatened my throat. Not waiting to see what he would do next I brought up my knee again at the same time as I threw all my weight towards him, my hands forcing his hand backwards with the knife. With a sickening kind of ease it sliced through his shirt, and then skin and muscle and organs before I released it, the blood already rushing from the wound and spattering down on me like a gruesome rain.

Royce didn’t scream. He seemed almost surprised to look down and see the knife sticking out of him, and then he whimpered as he fell to the side. I pushed him off me, scrambling to get away from the blood, terrified to be near him even as I knew that he wasn’t able to hurt me anymore. The knife was buried to the hilt in his belly, and Royce’s hands went to it disbelievingly.

“You…” his voice trailed away as he eyes glazed over. His face was stark white, the blood from his injury and the blood from mine mingling in drips and smears and puddles on the floor. His hands fell back and his body twitched.

I could have tried to help him. I could have made some effort to staunch the flow of blood. I could have called an ambulance or a doctor right away. It wouldn’t have done any good - they told me later that the wound was fatal regardless of what medical attention he did or didn’t receive - but even so, I could have tried.

I didn’t. Instead, I laid my aching head down on the cool floor and shivered with pain and nausea as I watched Royce die.


	38. Aftermath

I stood at the window looking out on to the street, straining for any glimpse of Rosalie. In my arms Jem fretted, kicking his legs irritably and making the kind of whining noises that I knew from experience would soon escalate to full-blown wails.

“She should be back by now,” I said abruptly, turning from the window and looking towards Rosalie’s parents. “What could she still be talking to him about? Either he’s agreed or not.”

“Perhaps they’re working out details?” suggested Mr Hale, a little uncertainly.

I scowled and jiggled Jem in an effort to keep him happy. “She wouldn’t leave Jem this long. He’s getting hungry.” As if on cue the baby opened his mouth in an impatient scream, which made up my mind for me. “I’m going to go over there and see what’s going on.”

“Oh, do you think that’s a good idea?” Mrs Hale said nervously. “Rosalie was quite clear…”

I shook my head. “The baby needs her. I _knew_ I shouldn’t have let her go over there by herself…I’m going to go and find her.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mr Hale said shortly and I was forced to wait, with increasing impatience, while he put his jacket on before we could leave the house.

I kept pace alongside him, although my growing sense of unease made me want to run as fast as I could. I hadn’t wanted Rosalie to go alone in the first place, but the fact that she hadn’t returned by the time Jem was ready to feed again had made me feel sick with anxiety. How could I have been so _stupid_? Royce was _dangerous_ , and Rosalie wasn’t one to back away from a fight. The last time they’d been alone he’d dislocated her elbow and hit her in the face, so who knew what might be happening now… I cursed myself to hell and back and walked as fast as a puffing Mr Hale could keep up with over to the house I knew so well.

I saw the cars from the end of the street. Several of them parked carelessly on the drive, the men moving between them in uniform…my heart in my throat I held Jem protectively close to my chest and ran.

“Sir! You can’t go in there…Sir!”

One of the policemen tried to stop me, but I brushed him aside as easily as a fly and pushed my way through the open front door and into the hall. It was crowded with men in blue police uniforms, and loud with talk. Several of them turned to stare at me, their voices dropping.

I couldn’t see her anywhere. “Rosalie!” I shouted.

“Sir, you’ll have to leave. This is a crime scene…” One of the officers came over to me, holding out his hands and trying to guide me backwards.

Jem, hungry and cranky already, took one look at the crowd around him and opened up his mouth and screamed. For a moment no one did anything, and then a small women with brown hair and a kind smile came and touched me on the arm.

“Emmett? I’m Esme Cullen. I was with my husband when the police called him in. Come into the kitchen with me, that’s where Dr Cullen and Rosalie are,” she said gently.

The police officers didn’t tell me I couldn’t so, confused and terrified over what I’d find in the kitchen, I followed Mrs Cullen through to the back of the house, where I saw Dr Cullen and Rosalie seated in kitchen chairs, a young looking police officer standing awkwardly off to the side.

“Rosalie…oh Rosa-girl…”

She looked like a vision from my worst nightmares. Face stark white, blood soaked into her clothes and matted in her hair, a row of black stitching running halfway down her face as it closed a gaping wound that ran from her temple to her jaw. Her hands and arms were swathed in towels, all of it coloured with giant crimson patches of blood, and a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

My arms shook so much that Mrs Cullen reached across and took Jem from me, and I let her without a word as I fell to my knees by the chair that Rosalie was sitting in. “Beautiful girl, _please tell me you are okay_.”

Rosalie looked down at me, her face blank. “I’m okay. It…he…” Her face spasmed and without even thinking about it I knelt up and wrapped my arms around her, stroking her hair and back and kissing her face anywhere it wasn’t hurt.

“Oh Rosa-girl, I’m sorry…I should have been here.”

“Take it easy Emmett.”

I realised then that Dr Cullen was sitting right beside Rosalie, stitching up her face. I’d been so desperate to talk to her that I hadn’t even registered him. “Doc, is she…”

“Hello Emmett.” He indicated for me to move and, still with my arms around Rosalie, I shifted to her side. Dr Cullen gave me a sober smile as he went on with his meticulous stitching. “Rosalie will be okay. It looks worse than it is.”

Jem saw his mama and started sobbing, and Rosalie seemed to jerk back into wakefulness. “Oh Jem…oh little one…” Automatically she reached up and began unbuttoning her blood soaked dress and, feeling sick, I hurried over to the drawer and found a tea towel so that she could wipe her breast free of blood before the baby fed.  Much more awkwardly than usual Rosalie held Jem up to her breast and he latched on, leaving us all in silence.

“What did he do to you?” I asked tightly. As well as the wound on her face, I could see bruises and cuts on Rosalie’s arm and hand, now dripping blood onto Jem’s new clothes. “Did he have a _knife_?” I grabbed the towel and did what I could to wrap her arm and keep the blood from the baby.

“Yes,” Rosalie said, her voice low and detached. “He had a knife. He wanted to kill me…but he wanted to hurt me first.” She shuddered. “But it didn’t end up that way…I killed him, Emmett.”

It was like the whole world was rocking under my feet. “You…what?”

“I killed him,” she repeated, in the same robotic voice. “He cut my face, and we fought and I…I got the knife and I…he’s dead, Emmett, Royce is dead…”

 _Good girl!_ I can’t deny that my first thought was one of overwhelming relief, that Royce was dead and now Rosalie was safe from him. Jem was safe from him. We were _all_ safe from him…but, oh! At what price?

 “It’s not your fault,” Mrs Cullen said soothingly. She carried over a steaming mug of tea and pressed it in to my hand. “Here Emmett, drink this.” She looked back at Rosalie and twitched the blanket more closely around her. “You were defending yourself Rosalie, that’s all.”

I took the tea and drank it down, finding comfort in the hot sweetness. Rosalie had a cup of tea beside her, and I gently encouraged her to drink some too.

Dr Cullen continued stitching as he said quietly, “It was self-defence. The knife belongs to Royce, and these cuts were clearly made when he attacked you. I have documented evidence of the previous abuse Royce inflicted on you, Rosalie. You called the police immediately and made no effort to hide or lie about things, which speaks in your favour as well. There is no doubt in my mind that this is a straightforward case of self-defence.” He reached the end of the cut on Rosalie’s face and tied and snipped off the thread. “I’ve been as careful as I can Rosalie, and I don’t think that will scar too badly. Now, I need to deal with the injuries to you arms and hand.”

I took Jem as he finished feeding. Mrs Cullen got a basin of warm water and helped Dr Cullen wash Rosalie’s hand and arm. The cuts weren’t as deep as the one on her face, but they were messy and some still required stitching. Rosalie sat stoic and uncomplaining as Dr Cullen began the tedious process of sewing her back together.

Mr Hale came into the kitchen, accompanied by one of the senior police officers. His face paled when he saw Rosalie covered in blood, but he maintained his composure as he came over and touched her lightly on the shoulder.

“Rosalie, this is Detective Shane. Detective Shane, my daughter Rosalie King.”

The detective nodded around. “Dr Cullen, is Rosalie able to answer a few questions right now?”

Dr Cullen hesitated. “I think she’s in shock Detective. She’s told you the story, perhaps any interrogation can wait until she’s feeling better and has a lawyer present.”

Rosalie looked up at the detective, her face taut. “I’m not in shock. It happened exactly as I told you. I came over here to talk to him, but he had his knife and he wanted to kill me. He _would_ have if I hadn’t been able to fight him off. And he told me he’s done it before and got away with it.”

“We’ll be looking into those claims,” the detective said quietly. “Dr Cullen, we’ll need you to give a statement about the extent of the injuries.”

“Of course,” Dr Cullen nodded and continued to work on Rosalie. His sewing was even better than Ma’s…I couldn’t help but be impressed at his tiny, impeccably neat stitches.

“Do you feel up to going through the events with me now?” The detective asked Rosalie. “I’d like to get a full and complete statement from you.”

Rosalie nodded and over the next hour she spoke, answering all the detective’s questions, painting a clear and stomach-churning picture of what had taken place. That she had been in such danger, that Jem and I could have lost her…I clenched my hands into fists to stop them shaking.

At one point during the questioning a younger detective came in with a box. I saw a brief flash inside of all the mutilated photographs of Rosalie and looked away. Rosalie herself looked vaguely sick as she looked at them, and shook her head when she was asked if she had seen them before.

Finally the detective seemed to run out of questions. He finished scribbling in his notebook and then said, “Thank you Mrs King, for your cooperation. We won’t be taking you in to custody at this point, although our enquiries will be continuing and we would ask that you remain at your parents’ home for the time being.”

Rosalie nodded. “Of course.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

______________________________________________________

Back at the Hale’s house, it was clear that the numbing effects of shock were beginning to wear off for Rosalie. She was shivering and jumpy, and I thought the last thing she needed was to have to sit down with her mother and tell her she’d just killed her husband.

“I’m going to take her upstairs and wash all that blood off,” I said quietly to Dr Cullen, who had come in at Mr Hale’s request to help him tell his wife all that had occurred.

“Try and keep the stitches as dry as possible,” Dr Cullen murmured. “I’ll give her a shot before I go so that she will sleep, which is what she needs now.”

“And don’t worry about little Jem,” Mrs Cullen said, smiling at me as she held my sleeping baby. “I’ll look after him for you.”

“Come on Rosa girl,” I said, taking her hand and leading her past the sitting room. Mrs Hale saw the blood all over her daughter then and screamed, but Rosalie didn’t even blink.

Upstairs Rosalie fumbled with her buttons, but her hands were shaking so much that when she’d only undone one button five minutes later I gently took her hands away and did it myself. The dress, her slip, her underwear…everything was dark with drying blood.

I sat her before the sink and washed her hair, careful to keep the water away from the long row of stitches on her face, gentle and tender with the swollen, bruised area that had been slammed into the table. Neither of us said anything as I did that. Rosalie kept her eyes shut, and I watched with my heart aching as all the blood washed out of her hair in water made red.

_After everything he’s ever done to her before, now we have THIS? This attack on her face, this threat of death that gave her no choice but to fight back with everything she had? He didn’t leave her any choice BUT to kill him._

I ran the tub, and helped Rosalie step into it. She shuddered as the warm water rose up around her, and then covered her face with her hands. “Oh Emmett…” Her voice was muffled and desperate. “What have I _done_?”

“You did what you had to do,” I said steadily. “You did what you had to do to get away and get back to me and Jem. It was self-defence Rosalie.”

“But I _killed_ him,” she whispered, dropping her hands and staring at me with wide, terrified eyes. “I got hold of that knife and I drove it right into his belly and he died right there next to me…”

“He didn’t give you a choice.” My voice cracked. “Beautiful girl…you can’t blame yourself for this. He’s the only who pulled out the knife, he’s the one who used it to hurt you. _You didn’t have a choice_.”

“What do I tell Jem? What do I say when he’s old enough to ask about how he came to be?” Rosalie’s voice shook.

I stroked her long, damp hair. “We tell him the truth. That the man who fathered him wasn’t all that he should have been, but that his mama was brave and strong and did everything she had to in order to take care of him. He’ll be proud of you Rosalie; when he’s old enough to know what happened he’ll be as proud of you as I am.”

“What if I go to prison?”

“You won’t. The detective said that the evidence backs up your story, and Dr Cullen has proof that Royce had hurt you before. They won’t jail you for defending yourself against someone with a knife to your throat.”

Rosalie gingerly touched the stitches running down the side of her face, from her temple to her jaw. “This is going to scar. Everyone is going to look at me and see it…what will they all think?”

“That you’re beautiful,” I whispered, tenderly taking her face in my hands. “Because that’s what I think. You’re beautiful, no matter what.” I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. “Beautiful and strong and so, so brave.”

And my beautiful, brave girl, who I loved beyond words, laid her cut and bruised face against my neck and cried.


	39. A Second Chance

“Rosalie? Come in.” Dr Cullen held the door to his consulting room open and, leaving Emmett in the waiting room making faces at Jem to make him smile, I followed him in. “How are you?”

“Fine thank you,” I answered automatically, adding more honestly, “Not bad. There have been some nightmares and tears, but I’m starting to feel better.”

Dr Cullen nodded. “Of course. You’ve been through a traumatic experience.” He gestured for me to sit down and then shone a lamp on my face so he could more closely examine the row of stitches. “It’s been five days and these are ready to come out.”

I winced and nodded, sitting braced for pain while Dr Cullen got his scissors and tweezers and began snipping and tugging out the stitches. “Ouch.”

“What’s happening with the case?” Dr Cullen inquired. “They’ve decided not to charge you?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Everyone was satisfied that it was self-defence, once they took into account what I said and what you said. Plus, it was his knife and they found all those photographs of me that he’d slashed to ribbons. Ellen backed up your statements that he used to hurt me too. She was devastated over what had happened, she came to see me and apologised so many times for not doing anything…but there wasn’t anything she could have done. There wasn’t anything anyone could have done really, except maybe me. If I’d left earlier, or …”

“Even then, who knows what might have happened,” Dr Cullen interrupted gently. “It’s better not to get too wrapped up in what might have been, Rosalie.”

“The police found something else though,” I said with a shiver. “A box in the safe in Royce’s study. Something I never had access to. It had things in there like an earring, and a bloodied handkerchief, a button and a hatpin. Little things like that. But they were all things that had belonged to girls who had been attacked. The handkerchief had initials on it and they were able to connect it to a girl who had been assaulted, and who had…she had died.” I swallowed hard. “So it would seem Royce told me the truth when he said that he had hurt women and got away with it before.”

“I’m very sorry,” Dr Cullen said sincerely, still working carefully at removing the stitches.

“I can’t believe I lived with a killer,” I said, my voice shaking. “I can’t believe how blind I was…how much I never knew.”

“Nobody knew,” Dr Cullen said gently. “You can’t blame yourself for not knowing Rosalie, Royce was a skilled liar and went to great pains to hide his true self. You were very lucky to have been able to get away from him. And very, _very_ lucky to get away with only the injuries you had at the end.”

“I know,” I said, once again suppressing a shiver at the thought of how closely I had brushed up against death.

“Royce’s father wanted me charged,” I said quietly.

“He did?”

“Yes. Until they found the evidence that linked Royce to that other girl’s death and some attacks that have happened around town. He knew then that if they charged me and it went to trial I would plead self-defence and it would all come out in court and become public knowledge. He didn’t like that idea. So he stopped pushing, and instead has just been leaning hard on all his newspaper contacts to keep the story as quiet as possible.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Dr Cullen said.

“It is. People know what happened, but the details are sketchy and without more scandalous stories being dug up people will soon move on. I don’t really care, since I’m going back to Tennessee with Emmett as soon as possible, but Father has to work in town and he and Mother have to live and socialise here…I’m sorry I’ve made it so difficult for them.” I sighed wearily.

“People move on,” Dr Cullen said. “Rumours and scandals come and go…even this will be forgotten in time.” He tugged a final knot of silk from my cheek, and then began working on the stitches in my hands and arms.

I winced and looked away. Dr Cullen noticed my discomfort and said lightly, “Esme sends her love and hopes you’re feeling better. She was very taken with baby Jem.”

“Oh Jem…he makes friends wherever he goes,” I said with a laugh. “He has my mother and father wrapped around his little finger and I’m going to have to hire a truck to take all the things they’ve bought him back to Tennessee.”

Dr Cullen smiled. “You’ve made up your mind then? It’s still Tennessee and Emmett?”

“Yes. Even being free of Royce, I don’t feel like this is home anymore, and it was never home for Emmett. I belong wherever he is, and at least for right now, that’s home with his family.”

I didn’t even hesitate with my answer. Whatever else there was, my belief in Emmett and knowledge that we belonged together was rock solid. Strong enough to sustain me through the nightmare days immediately following Royce’s death while the police questioned and the threat of prison hung over my head, and strong enough to keep me going now, as other consequences began to make themselves known.

“When will you go back then?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “The police need to officially close the file on Royce’s case before I can leave, and there are some legal matters with Royce’s estate.” I laughed mirthlessly. “Jem is his heir. I never thought about it, but he was so pleased when I was pregnant and so sure he was getting a son that he had a new will drawn up. There were provisions for me written in, but it was basically all left to his child and that’s Jem.”

“I would imagine that’s a fairly substantial amount then,” Dr Cullen observed.

“Very much so,” I admitted, wincing slightly as more thread was picked out of my arm. “Most of it will be held in trust for him until he’s twenty one, with my father and Mr King managing it for him, but it will be used to pay for any educational or other expenses before then…Jem isn’t going to want for anything.”

Dr Cullen pulled out the last blood-stained bit of thread from my skin and dropped it into the dish with all the others. “All done,” he murmured, wiping my hand and arms with a stinging alcohol wash. “Continue to be careful with the lacerations. And don’t fret about the scarring,” he added, seeing my attention go almost immediately to the mirror. “They will start off red and raised, but in time they’ll flatten and fade and become much less noticeable.”

I stared at myself for a long moment. The scar on my face stood out, long and vivid red against the paleness of my skin. I thought how even a year ago I would have viewed this marring of my perfect beauty as a tragedy, but now I was able to look at it with much more equanimity. It was a scar, just a scar. Nothing compared to the scars Emmett bore from his bear attack, and nothing compared to the scars I bore inside from what Royce had finally forced me into doing.

“Thank you Dr Cullen,” I said at last, and we went back out into the waiting room. Jem flapped his arms and I took him from Emmett, who reached across and shook Dr Cullen’s hand.

“Thanks for looking after my girl, doc,” he said cheerfully. He looked at me and traced a finger along the scar line. “You’ve got her looking just as beautiful as ever,” he added softly, more to me than Dr Cullen.

I held his hand tight against my face for a moment. Sure, it was only a scar…but it helped to know that even then Emmett was happy to look past it.

__________________________________________________________

“You’re _sure_?” Emmett asked, yet again. “Because we can always wait…”

“No,” I said impatiently. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Mother and Father have finally agreed to come along…Mother will probably cry for all the wrong reasons, but I don’t care. This is _my_ choice this time, and I’ve chosen you. I want to start the rest of our lives right now.”

Emmett grinned at me blissfully. “Then let’s go get married, Rosa-girl.”

I let him leave the room before me, and I paused at the mirror, brushing a stray tendril of hair back behind my ear. The scar was red and obvious, and just for a moment I wished it was gone. But then I remembered Royce’s voice, taunting me about making me ugly, and I shook my head. I couldn’t let the memories of what had happened with him rule my life. I couldn’t let his darkness shadow the beautiful light of the life I was making with Emmett.

I paused for a moment, halfway down the stairs leading to the front hall. Mother was there, fussing over Jem in the baby carriage, and Emmett was standing a little awkwardly as my father talked to him. As I watched I saw my father reach into his pocket and withdraw a small box, handing it to Emmett.

“I don’t suppose you’ve been able to get a ring,” he said gruffly. “I thought you might want to use this…it was my mother’s, you know, so it was always going to be Rosalie’s in the end. I know she likes it.”

Emmett blushed red, but took the jewellery box with a steady hand. “Thank you sir, I would. It means a lot that you’d give it to me to give to her today.”

My father shrugged a little ungraciously. “Well, you’re what my Princess wants!”

I laughed at that and they turned to look up at me, both men smiling at me.

“Thank you Father,” I said sincerely, giving him a hug. “I’ve always loved Grandmother’s ring, and like Emmett said, it’s means a lot that you’ve given it to him to use today.”

“If he makes you happy Princess, then that’s what matters in the end,” Father said with a sigh, and I kissed his cheek and turned to Emmett.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely.” He beamed at me.

“Then let’s go.”

________________________________________________________

Vera was at the church with Henry, who looked absolutely enormous compared to Jem. Emmett’s uncle Lachlan was also there, as well as Ellen. Much to my surprise Dr and Mrs Cullen had come too, with a younger man I recognised as Mrs Cullen’s brother.

“Emmett invited us,” Mrs Cullen said with a smile, giving me a hug and handing me a stunning bouquet of flowers.

“What’s a wedding without guests?” Emmett said cheerfully, shaking Dr Cullen’s hand and then sneaking a kiss behind my ear.

I laughed as my father came and took my arm, scowling threatening at Emmett as he did so. “Enough of that now!”

Emmett took no offence, but winked at me in a way that sent warmth flooding through me, and turned my cheeks pink with a kind of anxious anticipation. A wedding was only the beginning of a marriage, after all.

My father squeezed my arm. “I hope it all works out for you, honey.”

“I think it will,” I said confidently. “I know Emmett, I’ve seen him in all kinds of situations and I know how he reacts to thing. This is going to be a good thing Father. I know you and Mother don’t exactly approve…”

“It’s not so much that we don’t approve,” Father began, “I will say he seems like a good man- he treats you like a lady and he’s ga-ga over that baby! But Princess, he doesn’t have any money and he’s a bit rough around the edges.” Father looked pained.

I giggled. “But that doesn’t matter Father, not really. Emmett has a heart of gold and he’s going to get work and make a living. Until then we’ve got his family’s help and we’ll manage.”

“Yes, yes,” Father sighed. “Anyway, we might be able to do something about that. As trustee of Jem’s money I can release it to provide for his needs, and I don’t think his other grandfather is all that keen on him growing up in poverty either. Might be that I’ll sit down with Emmett and have a good talk about setting him up in business so that he can see to Jem. So we’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes a little. Growing up in poverty, at least the kind of poverty of Emmett’s family, wasn’t the worst thing in the world. All the same, it lifted my spirits even more to think of the possibilities that the future held and I briefly hugged my father tightly.

I had expected my wedding to Emmett to be quiet and almost businesslike, in stark contrast to the lavish affair that had marked my marriage to Royce. Certainly it was tiny in terms of guests. But everyone there was smiling at us and genuinely wishing us well, even my parents, and when we were wed and turned to walk down the aisle I was surprised and touched to have Edward, Mrs Cullen’s brother, play us out with some beautiful music on the organ. I gave him a bright and grateful smile and he grinned and nodded in return.

There was no reception or party, and there would be no honeymoon. Instead Emmett and I went back to my parents’ house and ate dinner, and then retired to my childhood bedroom with a cranky baby who simply refused to settle down and go to sleep!

“Is this what married life is going to be like?” I asked in exasperation as Jem pulled off the breast, arched his back and screamed. I rolled over on the bed we were lying on and pulled down the other side of my slip to offer the other breast.

“Pretty much.” Emmett shook his head ruefully. “At least until little Jem grows into a big Jem.”

I got the baby latched on again, and this time he managed to grab a hank of my hair. Holding the silky strands up near his face seemed to settle him a little more, and he began suckling more easily. Soon I felt his little body relax against mine, and I sighed and slowly stroked his spiky hair. “Good boy little Jem.” Emmett fitted himself against my back, softly kissing my neck and caressing my side. I relaxed into his warmth, feeling a drowsy sense of well-being flood me.

“You said we might have some time to ourselves when Jem gets bigger,” I whispered a little hesitantly, adding, “I thought you might want me to get pregnant again right away. So that you’d have a baby that’s really your own.”

Emmett smiled at me gently. “I _have_ a baby that’s really my own, and that’s Jem. Truly, I don’t think of him as anything less than mine no matter who actually put him in your belly. And sure, one day in the future it would be good to give him a baby brother or sister, but for right now I’m happy with the three of us, Rosa-girl.”

Eventually Jem nursed himself into a milky stupor and, planting another kiss on my bare shoulder, Emmett gently lifted him and carried him over to the cradle. He swaddled him firmly and both of us held our breath as Jem gave a tiny snuffling whimper. But all the baby did was sigh, and then his breath eased back into the rhythm of sleep and we relaxed. “Goodnight little buddy,” Emmett murmured.

He slid down onto the bed beside me, and wrapped me in his arms with a sigh. I could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong, and I closed my eyes and listened to it. My own heart was pounding, and I wondered if he could feel it too.

“Are you scared?” Emmett asked quietly.

I thought for a moment, and then shook my head. “No. Not of you…I could never be scared of you.”

“Good.” And Emmett kissed me, and in the two of us being together I found a whole new world I’d barely imagined was even possible. Love and tenderness and bliss, all bound up in this man that was now my husband and the love of my life. And I knew that whatever challenges we faced and problems we might encounter, nothing would be too hard as long as we faced it together.

We slept curled around each other, and the dreams were good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Well, challenge complete…could Rosalie and Emmett ever have worked out if they’d stayed human? Hopefully with this story I’ve answered the question with a plausible ‘yes’! I do love Emmett and Rosalie, even without the vampire magic. I hope everyone who read it enjoyed it, thank you as always for taking the time to give my stories a try and thank you for all the lovely kind comments and reviews. Of course there is also a big thank you to Stephenie Meyer for writing Twilight and inventing my favourite characters in the first place!


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